


Extra Innings

by Inkera



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Aspec Peridot, Catcher Amethyst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pitcher Pearl, Romance, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, oh my god they were roommates, the university baseball au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkera/pseuds/Inkera
Summary: A slow-burn Pearlmethyst baseball university AU.Pearl is a full-ride athletic scholarship student who pitches for a nearby university baseball team, while Amethyst is in the same boat as the team's catcher. They both thought running away to university would solve all their problems. Too bad the past always catches up eventually.-Tumblr: inkera0
Relationships: Amethyst/Pearl (Steven Universe)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 34





	1. Chance Encounters

“Not gonna lie, that was terrible.”

Pearl sighs, snagging the thrown ball in her glove with a frustrated snap. She rolls the tension out of her shoulders and sets her feet on the mound. “Fastball,” she announces.

Amethyst crouches behind the plate. “Maybe you’ll hit your spot this time.”

The sun hangs low in the sky, marking the end of another day. It’ll get dark soon, so they’ll have to wrap this up quick while they still have light.

The two third-year athletes are the only ones to stay late today, which isn’t that unusual of an occurrence considering how much the team already practices each day with a two-hour weight-lifting and conditioning session in the mornings and three hours of baseball practice in the afternoons. However, with the preseason tournament coming up, Pearl needs to get in as many reps as possible since her aim has been sloppy as of late.

She can’t allow such lackluster performance in an actual game - much less their first game of the season - if she wants to keep her full-ride athletic scholarship status.

The pitcher is tall and lanky on the mound. Her jersey would hang off near skin and bone if not for the hidden muscles acquired through years of training. She appears frail at first glance, but her surprising arm strength tends to catch many off-guard once they’ve witnessed her strike out players twice her size.

She watches as the catcher raises her glove, positioning it in the lower right corner of the strike box as a target. Behind the plate, Amethyst is Pearl’s opposite - stout and small in stature. Despite being often teased for her height, both by enemy players and their own teammates, the catcher’s quick hands and strong arm have thrown out countless players who’ve tried to steal second base.

Amethyst holds still behind the plate with laser focus.

In a single fluid motion, Pearl steps and releases. A loud smack reverberates through the empty field as the baseball makes contact with leather.

Amethyst twists her glove back into the strike box to practice her framing. “Ball.”

Pearl grumbles under her breath and sets up again. Everything was wrong; her foot isn’t supposed to land like that, she’s supposed to pull back her elbow higher. Mediocre. How can she expect to carry the team in this sorry state?

Another smack resounds with the resulting catch. “Better.”

“It’s still off,” Pearl bites back, mostly to herself, as she kicks the dirt off the rubber with more force than necessary.

“C’mon, you got this.”

Another pitch crosses the plate. Pearl groans.

Amethyst tosses the ball back from her knees. _“Focus,_ P. That was right down the middle.”

Pearl takes a deep breath before stepping back on the mound, reminding herself to take her time. Her father’s words echo in the back of her mind, unbidden.

_Slow it down. You control the pace of the game._

She channels her rising anger into the ball, whipping it toward the catcher with more force than all the other pitches combined.

As it strikes the middle of the glove exactly where it’s placed, Amethyst playfully hisses in response, tearing her glove hand out of its confinement and shaking it out for show. “Ouch, felt the heat on that one.”

Pearl chuckles as she approaches the catcher, bumping gloves with her in a baseball high-five. “Thanks for staying late again.”

“No worries, dude,” Amethyst says. They make their way to the locker room, slipping their cleats off once they reach the edge of the dirt and step onto concrete. “Not like I got anything more important to do.”

“Oh really?” Pearl drawls. “Does that mean you’ve finished your math homework?”

“I said _important._ _”_ Amethyst rolls her eyes and Pearl resists rolling hers in response. “Why do I even need these gen eds for an art degree?”

“It’s _important_ to build a foundation of basic math in anything you do!” scolds Pearl. “As a future software engineer, I feel it’s my duty to help you see the light.”

“Nerd. Shouldn’t you be _glad_ I have the time to help you out?” Amethyst curls a lock of silvery hair around her finger. “Don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

Pearl shakes her head. “You won’t be able to play in the upcoming game if your grades drop, so if that means tutoring you instead of practicing, I’d gladly ‘take one for the team,’ as it were.”

“Ugh, you worry too much.”

Before long the two exit the locker room, Pearl sporting a fashionable canvas backpack and Amethyst carrying an overstuffed book bag with right-side strap slung over one shoulder and the other dangling uselessly. The possibility of her arm getting hurt - her _throwing_ arm, no less - irks the pitcher to no end.

“Must you carry all your books everywhere?” Pearl sighs, as the two make their way down the street toward the shops near campus. It’s cloudy overhead, an indication of the dreary fall weather and the start of a new school year. The apartment they share with their teammate Garnet is just past the shops and a block down.

“Easier than going back to my car between classes. Besides, it’s extra training.” Amethyst wiggles her eyebrows and lifts the bag with one arm like a dumbbell at the gym. She grunts loudly with each lift. “Gotta get _ripped._ _”_

“Just rent a locker. Besides, you’re more likely to get _injured_ than stronger.”

“Say that to my bulging biceps.” Amethyst flexes for show, and as much as Pearl wants to walk away and leave her cocky teammate in the dust, her eyes linger on the toned muscles peaking out from the way-too-tight shirt sleeves. “Sorry ‘bout it, P. Results speak for themselves.”

Pearl bites her lip and tears her eyes away. “Please. I see enough of those at weights every morning.”

Amethyst scoffs. “Yeah right. You’re always teamed up with Garnet - which, yeah, I get because she’s _Garnet_ \- but we never workout together anymore.” The catcher mutters under her breath, “Even though we’re like… the ultimate pitcher and catcher duo.”

“Are you… sulking?”

Amethyst’s face flushes. Pearl appreciates how easy it is to read the catcher, a far cry from Garnet’s expressionless mask - not counting the cocky smirks whenever she snags a line drive or turns a double play over at shortstop. Although, she supposes the shades she wears doesn’t really help in that aspect.

The pitcher scratches the back of her head. “I didn’t know you were so bothered by it.” It’s true she’s been lifting partners with Garnet ever since the last part of the previous school year, but that was only because being with Amethyst had become so… distracting, as of late. “If it helps, I miss it, too.”

“Ugh, I’m not _bothered,_ it’s just weird… you know?” Amethyst huffs and walks ahead. “Go lift with Garnet if you want. I’m not telling you how you live your life.”

“Amethyst, wait up!” Pearl jogs to catch up. “I thought I’d treat you to that new place you’ve been talking about. As thanks for today.”

Amethyst raises her eyebrows. _“You_ wanna go out to eat?”

Pearl flushes. “I know I don’t spend a lot of time with you and Garnet -”

“Or ever.”

“But I was hoping that could change.” She fiddles with the strap on her shoulder. “Now that I’m living with you two and all.”

“Well…” The catcher perks up ever so slightly. “Fine. Can’t turn down free food.”

“Good.” Pearl smiles, relieved.

The Mediterranean restaurant is crowded when they arrive, which isn’t so much a surprise as it is an inconvenience, seeing as it’s a Friday night and a few bars reside nearby where lots of college students frequent.

Across the street is one of the more popular bars with a line out the door - a sports bar that Pearl never had that much interest in but her teammates talk about going to all the time. Well, mostly just Amethyst and Bismuth - a fourth-year first baseman and their team captain. Garnet doesn’t frequent crowded places in her free time, preferring to spend it at the gym or at the small coffee shop down the street.

A tiny bell rings as they swing the door open before pushing their way through waiting customers to stand in line.

Amethyst leans against a nearby wall to scour the crowd. “Hey, isn’t that Lapis and Peri?”

Sure enough, their two teammates sit in the furthest corner from the entrance. Peridot taps away at her laptop with her back to the wall while Lapis picks at a plate of fries, looking as bored as she always does. It’s not surprising to see them together since the two first-year outfielders are roommates, but from what little Amethyst told her about them, they actively avoid places where they’re likely to bump into anyone they know.

Despite this, Pearl suggests, “Maybe we should say hi.”

“Nah,” snickers Amethyst. “Let’s leave ‘em to their date.”

Pearl sputters. _“Date?_ Wait, I thought Peridot was aro-ace.” It was something the tiny girl made clear in the first month she’d been with the team and also something Pearl admired since she could barely admit her own orientation aloud to herself. It was never something she could be proud of.

Amethyst pushes herself off the wall when the line moves up. “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t have to mean it’s romantic or anything. Besides, going on a _date_ doesn’t determine attraction. There’s lots of ways to be aspec.”

“Ah, of course.” Even as a third year student in college, Pearl is still trying to wrap her mind around the complex identities of the LGBTQ+ community. Her parents made sure she wouldn’t be exposed to such things as a child. “Forgive me.”

Well, it’s not like she doesn’t have _any_ experience, per se.

Growing up, Pearl mostly kept to herself. Not because she hated socializing - even if, admittedly, some of her teammates were a downright pain to interact with - but because it wasn’t an efficient use of her time. That line of thinking was one of the many “perks” of having a father as head coach all the way through high school.

Every decision he made for her or her sisters was calculated for the end result of at least one of them getting a full-ride to a top university. But after her elder sister Iris made a rather dramatic escape from home to work on an art degree half-way across the country, he put all his expectations on his next eldest daughter Pearl to pick up the slack.

Being head coach also meant he had the ability to kick players off the team if they were… _undesirable_ in his eyes, under the guise of “they just aren’t right for the team.” Pearl recalls her former teammate Rose was one such person when she came out as bi one day… then never showed up to practice again after that.

That was also the day Pearl made the decision to approach her after school despite her father’s threats. There was something about her that brought out a different side of Pearl, one she was sure hadn’t existed before Rose walked into her life and changed everything.

At first, she was curious how Rose could still be so friendly toward the daughter of the coach that kicked her off the team, but that curiosity quickly turned to friendship and then to something completely new when they had their first kiss in the back of Rose’s pickup.

But when Pearl moved downstate to attend South Spring University and Rose to Delmarva University across the country, they never saw each other again.

In the present, she and Amethyst order and find a table near the entrance, right next to the window looking out onto the street.

“It’s really coming down,” muses Amethyst, chewing on her gyro.

Thick raindrops patter upon the glass, and Pearl watches as students dart to shelter, careful not to slip on the wet pavement. “Good thing we got here when we did.”

“You used to live in a rainy place, right?”

“The next town over, yes.” Pearl doesn’t mind the rain like other residents do. She finds it oddly comforting, even when it comes down in the middle of a game, and even when she has to constantly switch out the ball when it gets too slippery to grip. “I seem to own more raincoats than any other clothing.”

“I’m from the desert, so I don’t know how you deal with it,” Amethyst grunts. “This place gets so depressing.”

“You get used to it.” Pearl doesn’t point out how the catcher should be used to it already after two whole years, but Amethyst has always been an enigma in her eyes. She crumples what’s left of her food in its packaging. “But why did you come here if you don’t like rainy weather?”

“Not like I had much choice…” mutters Amethyst.

After two years, Pearl is vividly aware her knowledge of the catcher merely extends to what toppings she takes on her tacos and the fact that it’s illegal for her to wake up before noon on weekends. Most of their conversations revolve around baseball or school in some shape or form - or more recently, Pearl scolding Amethyst to clean up her mess in the kitchen and Amethyst telling her to chill.

However, their most enlightening conversation had been about the one thing they were instructed _not_ to talk about - scholarships. It’s where she found out Amethyst was in the same boat as her. Of course, even with Coach Yellow threatening to bring down hell on anyone who dared to even _think_ about asking their teammates of their financial situation, Amethyst just shrugged and spilled it offhandedly one day to Pearl and Garnet after practice.

Pearl found it awkward not to return the gesture and revealed hers while Garnet did the same. As it turns out, the shortstop was only offered a partial scholarship that she made up for in additional academic ones.

Apart from that, they don’t really know much about each other. But now that Pearl’s living with the other third-years, perhaps that could change.

“Besides,” says Amethyst, leaning back in her chair. “It’s not all bad. Sure is nice to see some green instead of sand and dirt for once.”

“I agree, the weather and scenery here are much more preferable than the drier parts of the country. Heat is more distracting to play in than rain, in my opinion.

The catcher snorts. “If you say so.”

“How you can focus on the verge of heat stroke is beyond me,” says Pearl, waving a hand.

“How _you_ can focus with water literally blinding your vision is beyond _me._ _”_

“Let’s… agree to disagree.”

The pitcher turns her attention out the window, where the storm seems to have gotten worse. Lightning flashes in the distance and thunder rumbles a few seconds later, muffled through the cloudy glass. College kids across the street who were determined to get in the bar by any means necessary finally give up, scurrying away into nearby restaurants and stores as the line quickly dissipates.

“Looks like we’re stuck here for now,” Amethyst notices.

Pearl leans her chin on her palm to inspect the shorter woman, admiring the way her lips curve into a pout and her brows furrow in disgust at the prospect of walking through the pouring rain. The pitcher has always been entranced with Amethyst’s deep brown eyes that tend to sport a teasing sparkle when directed at her, but nowadays without the thought of Rose constantly eating away at her, Pearl often finds herself staring. “Hmm… I can think of worse things.”

The catcher glances to her companion curiously before her eyes dart away again, cheeks a little darker than before. “Yeah… I guess.”

Pearl smirks. “Like being stuck with Jasper.”

Amethyst cackles and slaps a thigh, causing a few other patrons to turn around in annoyance. “Anything’s better than being with that stick in the mud. That’s not saying much.”

“Amethyst,” Pearl scolds jokingly, imitating their older teammate. “Don’t you know you’ll never amount to anything with an attitude like that?”

“Give it up, you puny runt,” Amethyst growls, playing along. “If you just stayed home today, we might have actually won the game.”

“Oh, _you_ _’re_ pitching to us this practice? What a waste of my time.” Pearl puts on her best Jasper face - scowling and murderous - and wags a finger. “I bet you can’t get a single one past me.”

Amethyst pounds on the table in a fit of laughter. “And then you struck her out! What a joke.”

“My finest moment,” Pearl chuckles.

“Don’t listen to her, P. You’re great and always have been.”

Pearl grins, feeling shy despite the flattering comment. “You too, you know. You always get the worst of it. I just wish Coach Yellow would do something about it.”

Amethyst just sighs and shrugs. “Eh, I’m used to it. Besides, what can you do, you know? She’s gonna act how she’s gonna act. Can’t change that.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” Pearl chews on her lip. “Well anyway, I just hope you know there are people who support you, and you shouldn’t ever have to feel down on yourself.”

“Nerd. Quit being all sappy,” Amethyst mumbles, despite the blush on her face. She crosses her arms and looks away, trying and failing to hide the smile growing on her lips.

“Never.”

The tiny restaurant grows even more crowded as they talk as more students filter in from the rain. A few people jostle their table while waiting in line, so Pearl picks up her bag from the floor to prevent it from getting stepped on and hugs it to her chest.

Amethyst growls when someone leaves a dirty shoe print on her bag strap. “Watch it, buddy.”

“Maybe we should just make a run for it,” says Pearl, feeling stifled in what was once a nice environment. “It’s only a couple blocks.”

“Are you kidding?! We’re gonna get soaked!” Amethyst replies. “The one day I bring my laptop…”

They’re interrupted by the bell on the door ringing as another person steps in from the cold. Pearl, who is facing the entrance from her place at the table, freezes at the sight of familiar curly pink hair.

“Pearl?” Amethyst raises an eyebrow, noting the uncharacteristic horror splayed across the pitcher’s face. “What’s wrong?”

The woman at the door looks around curiously before locking eyes with Pearl, and she starts moving through the crowd - excitement shining in her eyes - before Pearl could dart from her seat. She nearly collides with the table in her eagerness. “Oh Pearl, it’s _so_ good to see you again!”

Amethyst whips her head back and forth between the two women, confusion written all over her face.

Pearl forces her lips to move as she whispers, “Rose…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really wanted to set up more aro/ace peridot content in the future, and i hope i did it justice in this chapter. however, i'm open to any kind of constructive criticism!
> 
> also:  
> yellow diamond: coach yellow  
> blue pearl: iris
> 
> i was inspired to write this ever since i saw the baseball episode. pitcher pearl and catcher amethyst fit so well with their dynamic. a lot of this is written already, but i wanted to post the first chapter to gauge any interest in future chapters. regardless, this is largely a personal project, and just a warning that i'll be adding content/trigger warnings and extra tags if i do post the rest. 
> 
> written based on my own baseball knowledge growing up and playing D1 softball in college. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


	2. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: panic attack, descriptions of abuse, and self-deprecating thoughts

Pearl nearly chokes. “Rose…”

“I knew you came to this school, but I never imagined I’d run into you _here!_ _”_ The large, pink-haired woman squeals, clasping her hands together. “How long has it been?”

The words come out strangled. “Over two years.”

“Way too long, anyway!”

Amethyst is quiet across the table.

Pearl bites her lip. “Rose… What are you _doing_ here?”

“Greg took me to this ‘sports bar’ across the street,” she says, using two fingers as air quotes. “We were about to head home when it starts pouring like nobody’s business. Can you believe that? It wasn’t even cloudy today. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“No no, I mean -” Pearl shakes her head and smooths back her short, strawberry blonde hair with twitching fingers, not even bothering to ask whoever the hell _Greg_ was. “What are you doing back _here?_ And not in Delmarva?”

“Oh, that’s a really funny story, actually.” Rose giggles, and with a sinking feeling, Pearl realizes she actually _misses_ hearing it. “I met Greg at one of his shows there, and I followed him back to our old town where he decided to take classes. He took me here for the weekend to show me the sights.” Rose taps a finger on her bottom lip. “You know, I never got around to it back in high school…”

“What about your own classes in Delmarva?”

She responds gleefully as if the words carry no meaning at all. “I dropped out!”

Pearl hears ringing in her ears. “You did _what?!”_

“Well, more like transferred to another school out here, but I’m only taking the minimum credits to play on the team.” Rose waves a hand. “It just got so boring, you know?”

Pearl rubs at an oncoming headache, trying to hold down her rising anger. “You had a full-ride to one of the top schools in the country… and you just… _transferred?”_ Pearl idly wonders what Rose’s parents think of this plan, but she knows this isn’t the time and place for such a conversation. “Is this new school even D1?”

“I think so? That would be cool if it was, huh? Then we could play each other!”

Amethyst picks the perfect time to cut in - before Pearl could scream out her frustrations. “Uh, hey there. Who are you?”

Rose appears startled, as if only just realizing they had company, before flashing a bright grin. “Oh, hi! I’m Rose.” She reaches out a hand in greeting. “Are you Pearl’s friend?”

“Amethyst. And yeah, we’re teammates…” Amethyst awkwardly takes the hand with one of her own and shakes it.

Rose grasps it between two of her own and starts shaking it even more vigorously, oblivious to the shorter woman’s bewilderment bordering on horror. “How exciting! I’d love to find out what Pearl’s been up to all this time.”

“Uh, well -”

Rose interrupts. “We used to be so close. Nearly inseparable! Did you know we were also teammates?”

“No, but I mean -”

“Oh, I know! We should exchange numbers!”

Dread shoots through Pearl. “No!”

Rose stops mid-motion, visibly confused. The catcher carefully eases her hand out of Rose’s grip while she’s distracted.

“I - I just mean…” Pearl stutters, embarrassed at her outburst, before taking a deep breath - in… and out. The last time Rose wanted to exchange numbers with her friend was when…

It doesn’t matter. _Focus._

“Please Rose, you have to understand. Things are different now.” Pearl has to make Rose see that she has a new life here - a different and better life with no ties to her past.

“That’s why I’d love to know what you’ve been up to!” In her excitement, she completely skips over the implications of Pearl’s words. Of all people, Rose was supposed to know better. “How has baseball been? What are your classes like?”

Pearl swallows. “They’ve been fine… but -”

“Oh, good, I’m so glad!”

“Rose, _please.”_ She steps in before Rose can start another long tirade about things that don’t matter, her hands curling into fists in her lap. “I can’t do this right now.”

“You… don’t want to catch up?” Rose bites her lip, eyes drooping to the table. “But I’ve missed you so much, Pearl.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” It’s not a lie, technically. However, the confession weighs just as heavy on her heart. “I’ve missed _this.”_ She gestures between the two of them. “But… you were _gone.”_

“But I’m here now,” Rose insists, and Pearl sees a sparkle of the same fiery determination she fell for in the first place. In the past, she would have dropped everything to be at Rose’s side, but she’s not that same person anymore. She _can’t_ be. “Everything’s okay!”

Ask any of her teammates - hell, anyone in her dysfunctional family - and they’d say that Pearl hates surprises. Not because she hates fun, as some of her teammates and younger sister would say, but because she doesn’t know how to deal with things without mentally preparing first.

And Rose showing up out of nowhere, spouting nonsense that she’s _found someone_ and is content with ruining her own life - and worse, that she _misses_ Pearl - is one such thing.

 _“IT’S NOT!”_ she snaps, and the whole place halts to a standstill. Pearl can feel everyone’s eyes on her so she bolts her mouth shut and buries her burning face in her hands. Soon enough, the surrounding chatter picks up again, leaving the three of them in their own tense silence.

Rose is the first to break it, reaching out a hesitant hand and looking like she wants to pull the pitcher into a hug but thinks better of it at the last second. “Pearl… did I do something wrong?”

“Yes,” Pearl whispers hoarsely. But the hurt in the other woman’s eyes makes her shake her head. “I mean - no. No, of course you didn’t.”

“I don’t understand. You said you were happy for me…”

Pearl can feel her heart breaking all over again, and it’s a torture she’d never _ever_ wanted to feel again. Now that she was out, things were supposed to be _better._ She wasn’t supposed to be dealing with any of this anymore.

But apparently, all it takes is one glance at Rose’s beautifully oblivious face to send her back to high school, pining over someone whose heart never only belonged to her - someone who didn’t know how to communicate that fact, who never truly understood the ramifications of her actions.

She’s back there again - when her parents find out and everything starts to spiral.

Her eyes burn. She gets a watery glimpse of Rose’s pleading eyes and Amethyst’s confused but worried expression, and she can’t take much more of it. “I have to go.”

“Oh… okay.”

Pearl makes to leave and Amethyst shoots up to intercept, chair legs skidding over the tile. “Pearl, wait.”

But the pitcher just swings her bag over her shoulder and pushes through the crowd. She hears a faint melodic voice before stepping out into the rain. “Goodbye, Pearl…”

Pearl doesn’t know when she starts running - only that before long, she’s soaked to the bone, her bag is soggy dead weight on her back, and she’s out of breath despite her top notch conditioning. Whether that’s from the running or the crying is anyone’s guess, but that’s just another reason the rain has never bothered her.

No one can differentiate between raindrops and tears.

Her foot catches on the sidewalk and she pitches forward, pain blossoming in her hands and knees as she hits the ground hard. Her bag goes flying off into the grass, but she can’t bring herself to care.

She’s gasping, hyperventilating.

_Rose is here. Rose is here. This is bad._

_What do I do?_

_What if_ they _find out?_

_I can't do this again.  
_

She’s struggling to pull air into her lungs as she sits up to curl in on herself, legs pulled into her chest, as puddles form beneath her on the sidewalk, wet, cold and uncaring. The path is deserted; no one bothers to pass through this way except the few people who live around here, including Garnet, Amethyst, and herself.

She’s getting lightheaded.

Maybe one of them will find her in the rain, soaked and pathetic. She hopes they don’t. No longer can she hide away in her studio apartment where no one can see her break down. And freezing to death in the rain sounds like a better option than facing her two roommates in this sorry state.

Why is this happening to her?

Today started off so well. She’d beaten her personal best in weights that morning, aced another test in her programming class, she’d done well in practice and was having a nice dinner with Amethyst…

 _Amethyst._ Pearl had taken off and left her there alone, and she’s probably stuck there waiting out the rain.

She sucks in a sob. Amethyst _hates_ the rain, and she just _left_ her there like the horrible person she is -

A shout from behind makes her flinch. “Pearl!” Footsteps stutter to a stop at her side. _No, no, what is she doing here? She can’t see me like this._

“Pearl, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Amethyst fusses over her, inspecting the torn knees of her jeans and hisses in sympathy. “That looks bad.”

But her mind is still reeling, and she’s shaking and struggling to breathe around her sobs. “Am - Ame… thyst…”

“Shh, shh, hey,” Amethyst rubs a soothing hand up and down her back. “Deep breaths.”

“Can’t,” Pearl chokes.

“That’s okay, just follow me.” The catcher takes an exaggerated slow, deep breath of her own. “In…”

She does her best to copy, chest shuddering in protest.

“Out…”

They both exhale at the same time, slow and careful, but Pearl shakes her head, clenching her eyes.

“It’s okay, you can do it.”

Pearl leans into the hand caressing her back, focusing on that instead of the racing panic through her mind and her pounding heart in her ears. They try again… and again, until she gets the hang of it.

They sit for a while in the pouring rain until the feeling gradually creeps back into her fingers and she grows more aware of the muddy water soaking into her stinging knees, her damp hair hanging loosely over her face, and the warm, steady presence at her side.

But one thought nags at her. She hiccups, mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Leaving you there.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you.” Amethyst chuckles, but her eyes betray her weary concern. “Your friend Rose is… a bit much.”

Pearl gives a weak smile. “Just a bit.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance as a gust of wind blows past that would’ve blown the two off balance if they’d been standing. Pearl gets a glance at the bag on Amethyst’s back that’s completely soaked through.

She gasps. “Amethyst, your laptop!”

“What about it?”

“It’s probably ruined!”

Amethyst grimaces like she already knows but has since accepted its fate.

Pearl covers her mouth. “Oh god, it’s all my fault.”

“What?! No, no, don’t even worry about that right now.”

“But -”

“It was my idea to follow you into the rain, okay? So don’t feel bad.”

“But…!”

“Nuh uh.” Amethyst interrupts with a finger. “None of that. Anyone ever tell you you apologize too much?”

Pearl looks away. Maybe she does, but nothing else would help take away the guilt eating away at her.

“But anyway,” says the catcher as she stands and pulls her up, careful to mind the scrapes on her palms. “Let’s talk more inside, yeah?”

Pearl nods, shivering as the chilling wind and a heavy fatigue hit her all at once - but instead of the good kind of post-workout soreness, this feels more like pulling two all-nighters in a row after a double header.

They aren’t far from the apartment actually, now that she looks around. She retrieves her bag from where it skidded into the mud, but the large, splotchy stains soaking into the fabric nearly make her break down again.

Thankfully, Amethyst takes it from her when she sees her hands start to tremble. “I got this; you go inside.”

The warm air that hits them as they enter is a small comfort as Amethyst nudges her inside and locks the door, plopping their waterlogged bags on the tile near the shoes.

The actual apartment is a three-bedroom, one-bath setup with a living room area against the far wall and a kitchen near the entrance.

Garnet and Amethyst lived together their first two years in college with another of their teammates who graduated the previous year, so they asked Pearl to move into their extra room. The pitcher was content with her studio apartment near campus (paid for by the school) but admittedly, she’d been getting a little lonely coming home to an empty place. Besides, it was a chance to get to know her teammates a little better.

She knows Amethyst could live wherever she wants since they were in the same situation, and she thought maybe the catcher had the right idea by choosing to room with other people from the get-go.

Now, as she drags her tired feet over the tile, deliberately dodging her teammate’s weary glances, she misses the isolation of her old apartment.

Garnet sits on the couch in their living room as they kick off their shoes and make their way inside. She’s one of the tallest members on the team - rivaled only by Jasper and Bismuth but not as bulky in musculature - so on any other day, Pearl would have giggled at the sight of the shortstop engulfed in a large pink fluffy blanket while watching television. But today, her head hurts and all she wants to do is lie in her bed and never wake up.

Garnet glances over - her shades are off, revealing her striking heterochromia - and raises a hand in greeting, but hesitates upon seeing the state they’re in. “Woah.”

“Yo, Garnet,” replies Amethyst as she steers a wavering Pearl to the chair in the kitchen, not wanting to get mud on the carpet. Somehow, with the way Amethyst keeps her room in a constant state of disarray, Pearl thinks the catcher’s attempt at cleanliness is more for her benefit than anything. “Can you get a couple towels?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes pass, and the next thing Pearl processes is a warm towel draped around her shoulders that drowns her thin, shivering figure - and the sound of two chairs being pulled up next to her.

“So…” Amethyst starts, and the pitcher grudgingly lifts her head. She must look horrible in her current state, but she owes Amethyst some sort of explanation at least. “What was that about?”

Pearl almost laughs. Where to even start?

Garnet saves her by cutting in. “What happened?”

“We were at a restaurant when one of Pearl’s old teammates came up to us,” answers Amethyst, drying her hair with a towel of her own. “It got a little intense, so we bolted outta there.”

The catcher’s description of Rose pulls at her, so Pearl mutters, “She was a little more than that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Amethyst fidgets. “I guess things didn’t end well.”

“I didn’t want it to end at all.” She pulls the towel tighter around her and brings her ice cold bare feet up onto the chair. “But she left to play for Delmarva U’s baseball team... and I came here.”

“I remember that part, but damn.” Amethyst whistles. “To get a full-ride, she must be _good.”_

“The best catcher this side of the country, in fact.” Pearl recalls the numerous scouts who would seek her out at every tournament their team played in. And how only one or two would talk to Pearl after. “Rose was… incredible. And not just at baseball.”

Garnet frowns. “She wouldn’t happen to be Rose Quartz?”

Amethyst raises her eyebrows. “You know her?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Delmarva makes top five in the World Series every year. You don’t watch?”

“Pft, no. Sounds boring.”

“Well,” says Garnet, “it _was_ boring these past few years since they took home the championship every time. Rose was their biggest threat at the plate, scoring nearly half their runs. She was even deliberately walked a few times last year in the finals to prevent her from hitting.”

“Woah.”

“Of course, it didn’t really help because their whole roster can hit.”

“Welp,” replies Amethyst in an attempt to lighten the mood. “When we finally make it to the World Series this year, we’ll show ‘em what’s up!” She punches a fist into her palm. “And Pearl’s gonna strike ‘em all out, right?”

Pearl just hugs herself closer, eyes downcast to the tile.

Amethyst’s grin falters, exchanging a look with the shortstop. “Uh, I mean…”

Garnet speaks up in her place. “Not to detract from the actual issue here, of course. Is there anything _you_ would like to talk about, Pearl?”

The pitcher squeezes her eyes shut. “It’s just…”

She thinks back to the nights following every close game in which Rose would single-handedly pull them to a victory by scoring the winning run in the last inning - or worse, the nights when even that wouldn’t be enough.

And her father would be furious.

_It wouldn't be so close if you’d just do your goddamn job!_

She remembers how he’d drag her into the house by her jersey collar while she struggled to keep up - remembers how the fabric dug painfully into her neck.

 _What’s all our extra practice for -_ He’d shove her through the door, slamming it behind them while her mother and sisters in the living room looked away. _\- if you’re going to be completely useless each game?!_

_I'm sorry -_

_Don’t be sorry, do better!_

If she had been better, maybe her father wouldn’t still look at her like the family disgrace. Maybe if she had been good enough for Rose, she wouldn’t have taken off across the country.

A constant question rises up to the front of her mind, one she’s asked herself every single day in the face of countless failures. Pearl buries her face in her hands. “Why am I never enough?”

And the resulting tense pause rings in her ears.

 _“What?”_ Amethyst retorts. She flings her damp towel to the tile where it hits with a loud smack. “That’s ridiculous, who gave you that idea?”

Pearl flinches away.

“Amethyst!” Garnet hisses.

“What? I wanna know so I can beat ‘em into the dirt!”

“Pearl,” Garnet starts, laying a hand on her thin shoulder. But the pitcher tenses at the contact, and Garnet pulls away, her eyes reflecting her concern. “You know you can tell us anything, right?”

“I know…” She so desperately wants to trust them, but the fact of the matter is they barely know each other at all. What will they think of her when they find out how weak and pathetic she actually is? “But I can’t.”

Being an athlete requires a certain level of tenacity to get through their daily workouts and play at their best at each and every game. They’re expected not to show weakness while feeling drained from pulling an all-nighter before a big test… or after having a panic attack in the solitude of a studio apartment.

She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if the two people she feels closest to on the team start looking at her differently - like the way her father used to look at her after giving up a game-winning home run.

Like a burden.

“I’m fine, really. It’s probably nothing. I’m just overreacting.”

Amethyst’s knee is jumping like she wants to say something but bites her lip instead, clutching her own arm white-knuckled as if to rein herself in.

Garnet looks unconvinced, but she doesn’t push. “Well, okay. If you’re sure. But why don’t you get cleaned up? You’ll feel a lot better.”

“Yeah...”

It’s better this way, Pearl tells herself as hot tendrils of water run scalding down her shoulders and over her stinging knees. She’s gotten this far without too many issues; surely she can make it the rest of the way through graduation. And then…

Well, she’ll figure that out when she gets there.

Besides, there’s no point in digging up the past unnecessarily. As long as Rose stays away from now on - and her family stays in the past where they belong - everything will be _fine._

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tldr; both pearl and amethyst have issues they need to work out & rose is all 'heart full, head empty'
> 
> i'll try to update every sunday, depending on how future chapters go.


	3. Miscommunication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for self-harm (nothing graphic, but it's there) & anxiety/panic attack.
> 
> Please remember to read the updated tags, and stay safe!

All throughout high school, Pearl only used Facebook out of obligation to her sisters and teammates, but sometime between losing the love of her life and moving on to a new school, she made the decision never to look back at the person she used to be and the people she associated with. However, the nonsensical curiosity to check in with everything she’s missed tugs at her mind upon waking, limbs sore and tired from the previous day.

As if one encounter with the past isn’t enough.

She’s faced with an accursed blue and white web page.

_Would you like to reactivate your account?_

“I don’t _like_ anything about this, but here we are,” Pearl muses to herself as she’s granted entry, alone in her room with a laptop propped upon her lap. She was woken earlier by a nightmare while it was still dark outside. Now, the sun filters through her blinds in an irritating reminder that time stops for no one, but it’s still way too early for either of her roommates to be awake this early on a Saturday. At the corner of her eye, the digits 7:30 blink from her bedside table.

Her feed fills with the same pointless drivel she remembers.

“Spaghetti for dinner. Fascinating…” She scrolls down. “Ugly new car… Drama… Drama… Job promotion… Even more drama… Oh! They finally got engaged. Good for them.”

After a post about upcoming birthday plans written by one of her old teammates, a name catches her eye.

“’Amber Agbayani carries her team to another victory over Kent City,’” Pearl recites, her brow furrowing with each word, “’making this the high school senior’s second tournament win this year, including an impressive showing in the state tournament this spring. Rumors state that a representative from Delmarva approached the pitcher after her post-game interview. Whether she will be attending the top university in the nation is purely speculation at this point, but there’s a fairly good chance Coach White will be adding one of the top seeds to her already impressive roster next school year.’

“Hmm… Looks like she’s doing well.”

The last time Pearl spoke to her younger sister was a few hours before she left for the university. She can’t even remember what they talked about - probably something to do with homework or washing the dishes, since most of their conversations had been stiff and awkward and _definitely_ not sentimental at all - but after two years… Despite their emotional distance, she actually misses running into her in the cold hallways of their childhood home.

But at least she’ll be able to accomplish what Pearl never could. Their father has to be happy about that at least.

She considers sending a message to Amber asking how she’s been, but the bitter part of Pearl thinks better of it. Her sister’s life was probably much better now that Pearl was out of the picture and their father could focus all his attention on her. Unlike Pearl, she has a passion for baseball, which will take her places Pearl could only dream of achieving.

She scrolls down her feed, more distracted than before. Her eyes skip over smiling faces that have matured over the time she’d been gone and away from all this and their insignificant town.

What was she doing here again?

Rose’s latest post pops up. Oh right.

It’s a picture of her kissing a man holding a guitar, and it appeared to be taken in the inside of a van. Attached to the photo is the caption: “Waiting out a storm with the bae xxx.”

So this must be Greg. Pearl scoffs. “What’s with that hair?”

Below is a dozen comments that all infer the same thing. “’Relationship goals,’ ‘You guys are so cute together,’ ‘favorite couple,’ etcetera…” Pearl rolls her eyes. “Do any of you have any semblance of originality?”

Judging by the post time, Rose uploaded this shortly after their encounter in the restaurant.

She looks so happy and carefree now, so different from the woman holding the weight of the world on her shoulders - a hidden darkness in her eyes that Pearl would get a glimpse of in their quiet moments together. After countless moments confiding in each other, Pearl used to think Rose’s parents were the cause, but now she’s starting to think that maybe the actual issue was _her._

No matter what she did, she could never make Rose truly happy - not in the way she wanted.

Now Rose is out there living her best life, and Amber is getting the attention she deserves from top tier schools - and all the while, Pearl has been gone from their lives.

Maybe her father was right; maybe she was the problem all along.

It makes sense; after all, she ruins everything, no matter where she goes. Her uselessness and inadequacy follow close behind like a shadow.

An old, traitorous thought rises up before she can stop it. _Would anyone even care if she disappears?_

The realization makes her go cold and furious all at once. She slams her laptop shut, letting it fall off her lap and onto the covers upside down where it stays, forgotten.

 _This was a bad idea,_ Pearl berates herself as she clenches her own strawberry locks in tight fists. This was a _horrible_ idea, she realizes, pushing down the urge to run, to hit something, to _hurt_ -

_No. Don't go there._

She pries her fingers open, rubbing her hands together to keep them busy and stimulated. Her chest is heaving again, just like yesterday.

_Just breathe._

Amethyst’s voice is the first she hears. _In…_

_Out..._

I can’t.

 _In_ _… and out…_

_That's okay, just follow me._

_In..._

_Out..._

She’s starting to get the feeling back in her limbs. Progress.

_…In…_

_…Out…_

The ghost of a feeling - Amethyst’s warm, soothing hand on her back. Her deep voice filling the air, washing over Pearl like the pouring rain, chasing away the demons plaguing her mind.

She’s not alone.

Not alone.

_In… and out…_

She’s more in control now, her hands have stopped trembling, and there’s more clarity in the texture of soft sheets beneath her palms, smooth and freshly cleaned.

Why does she do this to herself, when she knows it’ll make all those buried urges come flooding back?

Getting rid of her laptop altogether would help; she’d just have to rely on the library computers to do homework. It’ll make completing assignments while they travel infinitely harder, but she hates the idea of having a source of temptation so readily available at her fingertips - just one click away from completely losing it in front of her teammates.

Like she did in front of Amethyst yesterday.

She stifles a sob. The catcher was so patient and caring when she didn’t need to be, especially for someone like her. Amethyst didn’t need to chase her out into the rain at her own expense, and she _definitely_ didn’t need to humor her while she spilled her little issues with Rose.

Her fingers clench tight on the bandaging covering her torn knee. It starts stinging with a cold, detached sort of pain, but it also clears her thoughts to address the reality of her situation.

Losing control like she did… It was weakness. Nothing more. And after showing that side to Amethyst, how could Pearl possibly face her now?

A soft knock at the door makes her jump. “Pearl, you up? Me and Garnet were kinda worried; you’re usually out before either of us.”

A quick glance to her nightstand tells her that two whole hours passed while she was relearning how to breathe. “I-I’ll be out in a minute,” she calls, hoping Amethyst doesn’t recognize the tremble in her voice.

“No rush, just checkin’ in.”

She scrubs at her face before running a hand through her hair in a piss-poor attempt to tame it. Now, she just has to make herself presentable and pretend like nothing happened…

“You shoulda been there, G.” Amethyst picks at a hard-boiled egg, disinterested in the way it slides across the plate at her efforts. “She was seriously freaking out.”

The two speak in hushed tones to avoid waking their third, even if said roommate is usually up and making breakfast before Amethyst could form words with her sleep-addled brain. But considering what happened the day before, they don’t really blame her.

Amethyst is really only awake this early on a weekend because her mind was being an asshole by forcing old nightmares on her again.

“It was worse than the time Larimar accidentally splashed mud all over her fancy leather jacket.”

Garnet flips some hash browns on the stove. “This is a little more than mud.”

“No kidding.” Amethyst pops the egg whole in her mouth and chews around her words, sending bits flying from her mouth and onto the table. “Jush shucks.”

“Ew.”

She swallows and clears her throat. “Just sucks, running into your ex like that.”

“I think it’s more than that.” Garnet turns off the stove and sits next to Amethyst with her own plate of food. “Or rather, more than _just_ that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” The shortstop cuts at an egg with her fork. “She’s a perfectionist at heart - usually so sure of herself and her abilities on the field, but last night… I’ve never seen her so distraught. There’s gotta be more to it, especially after you said she had a panic attack.”

“Yeah, just sitting there in the rain. It was freaky.”

“It’s not our place to pry, but… she doesn’t have any other friends. And I know how horrible it feels to have to go through something alone. I just hope she learns to trust us someday.”

“I know what you mean.” It’s not like Amethyst didn’t have her own demons to face. Dread still pools in her stomach every time her phone rings, and she still lets calls from unknown numbers go to voice mail. But she’s not alone. Garnet has been there for her these past few years, just like she’s been there for Garnet in the few times her teammate has needed it.

She has her gaming buddy Peridot to distract her, and she has Bismuth to cheer her up… But Pearl only has her and Garnet. And they weren’t even that close.

And now apparently Pearl has an ex who’s bad news, who also comes with some other baggage she doesn’t want to spill, but it's _clearly_ eating away at her.

Just sucks. And Amethyst can’t stand the thought of Pearl feeling alone in this, so she stabs at some hash browns and says, “So… you’re a psych major.”

“Yep.”

“And your mom’s a therapist.”

Garnet raises an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“So you must know a lot of stuff about this.”

“I’m going to need you to be more specific.”

“C’mon, you know.” Amethyst waves her fork around, hash browns still clinging to the prongs. Bits and pieces fall to the table, missing the plate completely. “About all this mental health stuff.”

“Pretty sure you have some experience with that ‘mental health stuff’ as well.”

“Well, yeah, but not _helping_ people. It’s mostly just me learning not to _project_ my anger on innocent bystanders. And yes,” Amethyst cuts Garnet off when she opens her mouth, “I did learn that word from you.”

“Okay.”

“And I _know_ I messed up last night…” She stabs at an egg. “It was all that ‘I’m nothing’ talk from her. But that’s still no excuse.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Jeeze, Garnet,” Amethyst huffs. The fork clatters to her plate. “I’m _asking_ _…_ how do I help Pearl?”

“Oh.”

_“Oh?”_

“No, it’s just…” Garnet trails off, noting how the catcher is tense and fidgeting in her chair. Amethyst gets worked up about a lot of things - mostly about things from her past she doesn’t even like to talk about - but Garnet wouldn’t have imagined one of them would be Pearl. “Never mind.”

Amethyst’s knee is jumping, white-knuckled fingers clutching the edge of the table.

Garnet sits back in her chair. “So you want to know what to do in case she has another panic attack?”

 _“Yes!_ Was that so hard?”

The shortstop ignores her attitude. “From what you described, you did a pretty good job already.”

“But what if that’s not enough in the future?” Amethyst nearly slams her hands on the table but remembers at the last second she’s supposed to be quiet, so she curls them into fists on her lap instead. “What if I do something wrong and make it worse? I don’t want to be completely _useless!_ _”_

“It’s important to realize that she’s not in life-threatening danger, so that will help you keep calm as well,” says Garnet, reciting old information from her mother as if second nature. “Just reassure that you’re there for her and keep her grounded, either by touch or with words. But remember that some people don’t like to be touched while they’re panicking.”

Amethyst nods along with each point.

“As long as you’re listening and watching her body language, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Amethyst’s brow is furrowed in concentration. “Okay. Got it.”

“You good?”

“Yeah.” She jerks her head in a nod. “Yeah, no, I just… really don’t wanna mess up again.”

“You’re _fine,_ Amethyst. If anything, she’ll appreciate the effort.”

The catcher huffs and scoots back before kicking her feet on the table, barely missing their plates. “That ain’t important, okay? It’s just… no one deserves to feel like they’re nothing.”

The phrase “just like me” goes unsaid in the silence.

“But anyway,” Amethyst continues before Garnet can respond, “It’s almost ten, and she’s _still_ not up yet.” She scoots back her chair and heads over. “I’m gonna go check up on her.”

As Amethyst nears the room, she hears from behind the door what sounds like gasping and… a whimper. Rapping on the door, she clears her throat, heart sinking. “Pearl, you up? Me and Garnet were kinda worried; you’re usually out before either of us.”

“I-I’ll be out in a minute.”

She sounds so… sad. But how could she _not_ after the way Amethyst responded last night? And the way she flinched back…

Amethyst had been in her exact same position once upon a time. She just never thought someone would look at _her_ that way. And now, Pearl’s crying alone in her room just like Amethyst used to.

_Shit._

She clears her throat, calling, “No rush, just checkin’ in,” before trudging back to the table and taking her seat again, too distracted to care about the concerned look Garnet gives her.

“Everything okay?”

“I really screwed up, G.” Just like she screwed up countless times in the past when her emotions got the better of her. Maybe she should start keeping track of how many relationships she’s squandered thanks to her lack of self control. Then again, she only has so many fingers. “No wonder she doesn’t want to leave her room. _I_ _’m_ still here.”

Garnet sighs. “You don’t know that for sure. But if it is, just apologize. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“If she’ll even talk to me,” Amethyst mutters.

“She’s got to. You’re together every day.”

“Not by choice!”

They’re interrupted by a door creaking open followed by Pearl emerging from her room with bags under her eyes. Hair sticks up in the back of her head and creases litter her clothes here and there that would’ve remained undetected on anyone else, but it’s a huge warning sign on their otherwise tidy roommate. She spots Amethyst at the table and immediately looks away. “Good morning,” she mutters.

“Morning,” Garnet responds.

Something churns in Amethyst’s gut at the way Pearl avoids eye contact with her. “…Morning.”

“We’ve still got a few more eggs,” says Garnet. “If you want.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

They were here less than twelve hours ago in the same situation, with Pearl as unreachable as distant star and Amethyst wanting to do nothing more than to bridge the space between them. And anything she does just makes everything worse.

But perhaps this is for the best. Perhaps… Pearl would’ve been happier living on her own.

The silence through breakfast is palpable - until Amethyst manages to take action, forcing back angry, self-directed tears to head past the kitchen and snag her keys off the counter. “Gonna go over to Peri’s.”

Over by the stove, Pearl’s shoulders hunch in on themselves.

Garnet sighs, exasperated. “Amethyst…”

Her only answer is a slamming door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been seriously debating putting in the self-harm aspect (which will be addressed more in-depth in the future and won't EVER be romanticized) but ultimately decided to include it because this story has always been a very personal project. so I apologize if anyone came here expecting something a lot different.
> 
> that being said, please let me know what you think in the comments, and any criticism is welcome!
> 
> also:  
> amber - yellow pearl  
> coach white - white diamond


	4. Practice

The tension between them only sours as time goes on.

It starts out at first with awkward silences during pitching practice instead of their usual banter. Then, a passed ball goes through Amethyst’s legs and Pearl lets out a _tsk_ as it bounces off the backstop. After that, Amethyst snickers with each bad pitch, which riles up the pitcher even more.

More bad pitches turn into more passed balls.

Until one day, they’re practicing in the bullpen alongside the field when a ball in the dirt bounces off the side of Amethyst’s glove and flies past. It’s a pitch she would have blocked no problem before all this mess, but she fails to react quick enough. “Damn girl,” she shoots over her shoulder, shaking off the humiliation with a rising anger and dragging her feet on her way to the backstop. “You got a grudge against my shins or something?”

“Oh, please.” Pearl runs a frustrated hand through her hair. She hasn’t hit a single spot this session, and the constant rookie mistakes are starting to get to her. It also doesn’t help that ever since Pearl’s breakdown in the rain, the catcher has been avoiding her at all turns. She knows Amethyst thinks less of her after that pitiful display, but she didn’t expect it to hurt this much. “I’d pitch a lot better if _you_ weren’t so difficult! Honestly, you can’t even give me a proper target.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” Amethyst snarls back as she guns the ball back to the pitcher. Pearl whips her glove up to catch it with a snap. _“You’re_ the one who can’t throw a single strike.”

“Excuse me?!” she snaps. _“You_ haven’t blocked anything the entire time we’ve been here, and you’re blaming _me_ for your lackluster performance?”

 _“’Lackluster performance,’”_ Amethyst mocks in a high voice, while Pearl growls. “Just say I’m not good enough for you, so we can both get on with our lives!”

“Quit putting words in my mouth!”

“Why not? It’s the truth!”

“Just shut up, so I can concentrate!”

 _“You’re_ the one squawking at me!”

Over on the field where the rest of the team is practicing defensive drills, Bismuth shouts from first base, _“Enough!_ Both of you!” The senior jogs over and Pearl cringes as everyone stops what they’re doing to focus their attention on them. “No matter what’s going on between the two of you, we’re a _team._ I don’t care who said what -” She holds up a finger to interrupt Amethyst opening her mouth. “- and who did what. You leave all that outside during practice, and you _deal_ with it later.”

Pearl starts, “But Bismuth -”

“And you _better_ deal with it later.”

Amethyst mutters from behind the plate, “Dude, that’s none of your business.”

“You _make_ it my business when it affects the rest of the team.” Bismuth gestures over to the rest of the team - over to a panting Garnet in the infield with an unreadable expression beneath her shades, to where Lapis and Peridot are whispering to each other in the outfield, and over by home plate where Jasper is resting a bat on her shoulder, sneering over at them for the interruption.

“Look,” Bismuth sighs, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “I care about you both, and I hate to see you at each other’s throats. Come to me afterward if you need help, okay? Just don’t let this fester.”

As practice resumes and the two third-years go back to a grudging silence, stewing in their own frustrations, they somehow make it through the rest of the day without any major incidents.

That night, they of course _don_ _’t_ deal with it, choosing instead to avoid the other by locking themselves in their respective rooms.

Days go by without progress, and it eventually gets to the point where Coach Yellow decides to step in during the practice before their first big game.

“Whatever _this_ is,” demands their coach out of the blue, a tall and slender blonde woman clad in slacks and a collared shirt, as she gestures between the two players, “needs to end right here and right now.”

“Coach Yellow!” Pearl visibly startles. The older woman often leads drills during practice for the rest of the team or jots down notes in the dugout, so it’s surprising to see her at the bullpen. She usually trusts her pitchers and catchers to do their own thing - so long as they perform well during the games. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

But with Bismuth leading the team in bunting drills in the batting cage behind center field, far from earshot, Pearl supposes it makes sense her attention would be on them.

Amethyst takes a knee behind the plate and slides her mask off.

“Don’t start. I’ve been watching for half an hour, and you’ve been playing like shit the whole time.” The coach glares over at Amethyst. “Both of you.”

“I - I assure you, it’s just a bad day. We’ll both be at the top of our game tomorrow.”

Coach just grunts and turns to the catcher. “And you? Got any more excuses?”

In response - and to Pearl’s horrified bewilderment - Amethyst grumbles an obscene insult under her breath.

But not quietly enough. And Coach Yellow’s reply is low and chilling. _“What_ was that?” She swings her legs over the low fence in one fluid motion. The resulting terror on Amethyst’s face as the woman stomps her way over fills Pearl’s gut with dread. “You wanna say that to my face?”

Amethyst’s wide eyes are glued to the ground, and she’s clutching her mitt to her chest protector like a flimsy shield in the face of the coach’s wrath. “Sorry,” her voice cracks. “I didn’t mean -”

“You’re _damn_ right you didn’t.” Coach Yellow sneers down at the kneeling catcher. “I’m not wasting anymore money on worthless trash, so you better do your _goddamn_ job, or I’m pulling your scholarship next year.” She juts a finger in Amethyst’s face. “And you’re back to that trash heap you call a home that I pulled you out of. Are we clear?”

Pearl can see the catcher struggle inwardly and gulp, her throat bobbing up and down.

“Nod if you understand.”

She jerks her head in a nod.

“Good.” The coach takes the gate exit and slams it behind her, where it bounces uselessly off the pole. “Now, get back to work.”

The following silence is thick as mud as the catcher quickly tugs her mask on again and takes her position. She punches her glove, jerky and tense, and raises it as a target.

Coach Yellow is known around the country for being strict on her players but never to the point of threatening to ruin their career. It’s definitely something to bring up to their athletic director later, but right now, Pearl’s only concern is toward the player crouched in the dirt.

She’s never seen her teammate so shaken up, ready to bolt at the slightest sound. She can see it in her posture, in the way her shoulders curve in on each other to make herself appear smaller behind the plate - so unlike the steadfast confidence she’s built a reputation for over the past couple years. The catcher must have been carrying so much in silence without anyone else knowing.

Or perhaps, maybe Pearl has just been clueless this entire time, too focused on her own problems.

“Amethyst…”

“Don’t.” Instead of the sharp sarcastic comment Pearl expects after all their interactions this week, the catcher’s voice is soft and withdrawn. “Not now.”

Pearl wants to argue, but the way the catcher closes herself off, eyes hidden behind the mask’s protective bars and mitt raised in front of her chest, makes the pitcher pause.

She needs to do _something._ “Coach shouldn’t have done that...” But her voice is weak in her ears, and she knows from experience how little comfort it’ll bring her friend. She convinces herself it’s better than nothing.

She so desperately wants to reach out and say _I know; I understand._

_You’re not alone._

Instead, her hands clench into fists at her side.

“Not now,” comes the repeated reply, barely audible over the evening breeze. The catcher squeezes her glove in anticipation for the next pitch.

There’s nothing else to say that would ease the hurt, and so Pearl does what she’s always done - sets her feet, steps, and releases.

To Pearl’s surprise, Amethyst is the one to approach her first in the locker room. It’s empty except for Garnet hovering near the door with Bismuth, but she steps away at Amethyst’s pointed look, swinging her bag over a shoulder and turning to head home. She pulls their worried captain by the arm before she can protest.

“Look…” The catcher takes a seat on a nearby padded stool. Pearl’s fingers slow mid-text, and she locks her phone, placing it down in her locker to give her full attention. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you all week. It’s something I’m trying to work on.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Amethyst insists.

“Then… I’m also sorry. I was upset with my own performance and took it out on you.”

Amethyst nods, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “But anyway, about today… you can’t tell anyone else.”

It finally dawns on Pearl. “Wait. Are you apologizing because you think I’d… what? _Blackmail_ you?”

The catcher scowls and looks away.

“Listen.” Pearl runs a hand through her hair. She already _knows_ what Amethyst thinks of her, but _blackmail?_ Perhaps her opinion of her is even lower than originally thought. “I won’t tell our teammates. But the director needs to hear about this.”

There’s no way someone like Coach Yellow - like her father - should be allowed to continue coaching.

But Amethyst shoots up with a response that makes Pearl jump in her seat. “We can’t do that!”

“Why not?!”

“What if she’s fired? There’s no way they’ll be able to get a good enough coach in time for the main season! Right now, our team is just barely good enough to be recognized by scouts from pro teams, but if that changes…” Amethyst clutches her head. “I _need_ to have a plan after college. Do you understand?”

“I…” In actuality, Pearl doesn’t. Baseball has always just been a paid ticket to university for her, while her studies would carry her the rest of the way through her career. She’s never expected to get as far as a pro team in baseball but she’s clever enough to do something with her engineering degree. Surely the same could be said of Amethyst? “I understand why the _possibility_ would concern you, but she had no right to treat you like that!”

“It’s not like that was the first time,” Amethyst bites back.

Pearl wants to tear out her hair. “Do you _hear_ yourself right now?”

Amethyst huffs. “I just mean I’m used to it!”

“Not better!”

“Ugh, just… leave it alone! Not even Garnet knows, and I wanna keep it that way.”

She absolutely does _not_ want to leave it alone but also doesn’t want to make Amethyst do anything she doesn’t want to do. “I will… for now. But this -” She waves a frantic hand between the two of them. “- isn’t finished.”

“God, you’re stubborn.”

“Oh, _please._ You’re one to talk.”

Amethyst heaves a sigh, plopping back down on her chair. “Eh. That’s fair.”

“You… I… You’re so…” Pearl waves her hands about and growls in frustration. “Ugh!”

“You good?”

_“No.”_

“It’s really no big deal, P,” tries Amethyst, as an offer of comfort. It doesn’t help. “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Because we’re _friends.”_ At least, that’s what Pearl thought when Amethyst asked her to move in. “…Aren’t we?”

“Well, _duh."_

“And friends help each other with -” Pearl gestures wildly with her hands. “- _this_ kind of stuff… right?”

From what she understood from popular media and her novels, friends were supposed to deal with these kinds of things together. Not like the relationship she had with Rose, where they talked about everything _but_ the things that actually mattered. But maybe her own naivety gave her the wrong impression. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Um…” Amethyst scratches the back of her head. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I can handle it,” she mutters. “So just drop it. Please?”

Just last week, they were starting to bridge the space between them, but now that they’re finally getting to know each other on a deeper level, the divide seems to be constantly expanding with each new reveal instead of closing.

That’s the most frustrating part, Pearl thinks. Not Rose showing up in her life again out of nowhere, or losing control of her emotions in public - in front of _Amethyst_ \- like the lost, messy pre-teen she used to be. It’s the fact that anyone she tries to get close to ends up drifting away.

But one look at the pained look in Amethyst’s eyes makes Pearl gives in. “Alright,” she forces out.

“Thank you.”

The corners of her eyes start to burn, so Pearl ducks her head. She’s been such an emotional wreck lately, and honestly, she’s getting sick of it. If anything, Amethyst should be the one in her position - venting, angry, and letting out all the feelings she’s been carrying all these years without anyone else knowing. If anyone had a right to fall apart in an emotional explosion, it would be Amethyst.

“Hey.” The catcher’s hands are calloused and rough as they take Pearl’s hands from her lap, much like Amethyst herself is, but in this moment, they’re warm and inviting the way a blazing campfire while lost in the woods would be. “It’s not you, okay?”

Pearl doesn’t realize she’s been picking at the skin at the corners of her fingernails until Amethyst lightly rubs at the affected areas and some parts throb with a dull ache where the surface is breached. She swallows. “I know.”

“It’s this dumb situation.”

“I know.”

“So don’t blame yourself.” Amethyst’s thumb grazes over her palm, exploring each deep groove with a tender gentleness that sends a shiver up her spine. It’s such a contrast from the abrasive woman she’s seen across the pitcher’s mound this past week that something tugs in her chest. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you worried yourself over something like this… like me.”

“But I do worry.” Pearl sees her pulling away, so she closes her fingers around Amethyst’s to bring her back. “About you.”

Amethyst’s lips part slightly in surprise, eyes searching hers.

But it’s all a little too much too fast, so Pearl flushes and lowers her gaze to their intertwined hands. “I know I’m the last person who deserves to say this, but…” She slides her fingers between Amethyst’s, fitting perfectly in the empty spaces. “I hope you know you don’t have to do this alone.”

“Pearl…”

“If it becomes too much, let us help. Okay?”

Amethyst swallows. “Okay.”

The air-conditioned room feels way too warm and small all of a sudden, but neither of them pull away. In fact, Pearl finds herself beckoned forward by an unseen force, and their knees, once inches apart, brush as an afterthought. She finally catches Amethyst’s eyes, and they bore into her own with an intensity that pierces the deepest edges of her soul. It’s a kind of vulnerability she’s only felt once before in her whole life that it makes her heart skip a beat and hands tighten around thick fingers, loving the way they squeeze back with the same desperation.

They lean forward, and from this distance, Pearl can see Amethyst’s eyes glistening even with the dim lighting, swirling with an emotion she can’t quite place. The catcher’s warm breath brushes her cheek, and it’s like a comforting embrace on a cold winter night.

Like coming home, Pearl thinks, as her lips part in anticipation. Not to a place - because there’s never been a single building or city that’s felt like home to her - but to a person so flawed and messy and _like her_ that her heart is nearly bursting out of her chest. She unconsciously licks her lips, and a thrill goes through her at the way Amethyst’s eyes dart down to her mouth.

Their faces are mere inches apart when her cell phone rings.

Pearl jumps back, nearly tipping backward off the stool before Amethyst shoots forward and grabs her arm to steady her. “T-Thanks.”

Amethyst sits back and clears her throat. Her voice is a low rumble that makes Pearl shiver. “No prob.”

Pearl fumbles inside her locker, and after one glance at the caller ID, she jams her finger on the screen to hang up. It’s one of her lab partners checking in on their project due next week, which is the _stupidest_ thing to call about on a Friday night (especially since everyone in the class knows Pearl just completes everything on her own _days_ before the due date). Seething in her chair, she considers blocking them all so no one could ever interrupt her in the middle of…

Her hand flies to her mouth. _Were they about to…?_

A quick glance at Amethyst shows her awkwardly smoothing back her hair with one hand and fiddling with her phone in the other.

Pearl clears her throat. “We, uh, we should get home.”

“Y-Yeah. Good idea.”

They gather their things in silence before making their way out of the locker room, turning off the lights and locking up the door behind them. The trip home is quiet but comfortable, while the two of them steal glances at each other when the other isn’t looking.

Pearl leads them through a side street instead of the main strip that tacks on a few minutes to their travel time. If Amethyst notices, she doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these pining gay messes... it's not quite the reconciliation they've been needing, but i figured that might be too easy at this point in time.
> 
> sorry for the late update. it's been really hard writing lately because work and life in general has been super stressful, but i plan to stick with the sunday updates for now (to keep up my writing habit, if anything).


	5. Warm Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: mention/description of scars

Their first game arrives before they know it.

Three hours before the first pitch, the team trickles into the locker room to get dressed in their uniforms before the team meeting starts. Pearl, Amethyst, and Garnet are one of the first to get there, but compared to Pearl’s own game day schedule, they’re already running late.

Back when she was living on her own, Pearl was always the first to arrive for practice and games. There was something strangely calming about having the entire building to herself and being alone in the stillness of the locker room usually overrun by rowdy teammates. It was where she could take the time to calm her racing mind and get dressed at _her_ pace, slipping on her black long-sleeve undershirt and compression shorts without having to worry about anyone else judging her body sans the usual baggy clothing hanging off her frame.

Today, however, several of their teammates beat Pearl and her roommates there. Little Larimar is already dressed and blasting music through headphones, while Jasper sulks in her usual corner, flipping through her phone, and Bismuth tugs on her jersey near the entrance to the team room. Bismuth looks up to greet them before going back to changing.

Pearl mechanically makes her way to her own locker near the back wall.

Amethyst and Garnet plop their stuff down directly across the aisle. They slip their clothes off without a second thought, so Pearl hastily averts her eyes to the pile of clothes neatly folded in her locker. A large number seven stares back from the top of the pile.

Her fingers fumble on the fabric as she quickly tugs the shirt off over her head. She tries not to shiver after being blasted by the near-freezing air circulating the room, but all her attention - and what feels like everyone else’s attention - is on the exposed skin of her arms.

Thin, raised bumps litter the pale skin near her left wrist, leading all the way up toward the inside of her elbow like a railroad track. They’re leftovers from a time in her life she’s since moved past, but they remain stained on her skin as a constant painful reminder. She doesn’t expect any of her teammates to understand what she’s been through, so she quickly slips on the stretchy fabric of her undershirt, tugging the sleeve all the way down over, hoping no one caught her in the act.

One quick peak over her shoulder confirms the few people in the room are busy with their own things, remaining none the wiser.

That’s another reason she likes the weather here. Sunny days are a rarity, which gives her an excuse to wear her signature undershirt beneath her short-sleeve jersey. She still gets the occasional question about it whenever they travel to hotter places, but she can mark it up to remaining consistent throughout the season, no matter the weather.

If there’s anything competitive athletes understand, it’s consistency - building habits through hours of rigorous practice, tweaking and fine-tuning here and there to steadily improve their game, but all-in-all not deviating much from the skills they’ve worked on their whole lives. Listening to the same playlist before a game, praying, slipping on their “lucky socks”… all of these are just pieces of the same puzzle, like an unspoken rule between athletes.

It’s a language they respect and understand. Mental health on the other hand…

Pearl spent her whole life learning the rules to navigate these waters, and she’d be damned if she slipped up here.

Not too long after, the rest of the team arrives and gets dressed, and they gather in the team room residing on the other side of the wall to the locker room. It’s neatly furnished with black leather seats and couches. There’s a flat-screen television propped against the far wall for when the coach analyzes their game play (and for playing Amethyst’s gaming console she so generously donated her first year - even if the reason she brought it to the team room in the first place was to play on a much better television than she’s ever owned before).

Coach Yellow flips through the paper on her clipboard to read out the lineup and game strategy before giving them the usual rundown on their opponent.  
  
Today’s is incredibly short but effective.

“North Spring has never been a challenge for us,” says Coach, sliding the clipboard under an arm. “However, the first person I see slacking does sprints before weights for two whole weeks. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Coach,” come the scattered gripes around the team room.

“Good.” She turns her back and yanks open the door. “Now, kick their asses.”

Bismuth waits for the coach to stride out of the room to take her place in the front. “That was _pitiful,_ guys! I know we can get more enthusiastic.”

“But Biz,” Peridot speaks up from her leather armchair in the corner. “I’ve watched past VODs of your games against them, and there’s no conceivable way we’ll lose today. Their starting pitcher can’t throw a curve to save her life, their offense is mediocre at best… The only way they have a chance is if their incoming freshmen pick up the slack, and from what I researched last night, it’s incredibly unlikely.”

“The squirt’s got a point,” Jasper rumbles from the adjacent couch. She’s sitting with her muscled arms crossed, looking as bored beneath her baseball cap as Amethyst feels. “They ain’t got nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“But just in case, I’ve printed a detailed analysis on each of their players and their weak points.” The tiny outfielder digs out a three-ring binder and passes a few copies of stapled sheets around. “Their strongest hitter, number six, can’t hit the outside change, but you probably already knew that, Pearl.”

The pitcher nods and takes the sheets anyway, flipping through each one to confirm her previous knowledge. They’re surprisingly thorough. “Thank you.”

Bismuth pounds a fist into her palm. “It doesn’t matter how good or bad they are, we just gotta play like we always do! I wanna hear everyone _pumped_ when we march onto the field today.” She points a finger. “That means _you,_ Amethyst! I see you falling asleep over there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the catcher mumbles at Pearl’s side but sits up, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. She takes the set of paper the pitcher passes to her but stuffs one in her bag and passes on the rest. “Yay, go team…”

“Okay, you’re at a two right now, and I need you at like an eleven.”

Amethyst gasps over-dramatically and clasps her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my goodness, it’s game time! Let’s go guys! We can beat them through the power of hard work and love and _friendship!_ _”_ Her grin widens as Pearl lets out a snort to her left. “Nothing can cut through the bonds we’ve forged together!”

Bismuth shrugs, chuckling, “Alright, alright.”

Out the corner of her eye, Pearl muffles laughter behind a hand, a sparkle in her eye so unlike the defeated empty gaze Amethyst was used to seeing this past week. It causes a warm feeling to bubble in Amethyst’s chest and spread hot over her cheeks, knowing that she’s one making her smile.

Pearl catches her staring and flushes as well, diverting her eyes to her lap but a smile still tugging at her lips.

“Let’s start getting warmed up,” says Bismuth, clapping her hands. “Jasper, you’re leading stretches today.”

_“What?”_

“Don’t be a grump, just get to it!”

In the middle of their stretches, Coach Yellow pulls Pearl outside for some new pitcher exercises to work on. As they near the end of their warm up, the rest of the team spreads evenly through the training room, doing a free stretch to individually work on areas that need attention.

“So,” Peridot quips from the nearby wall. “Made up with Ms. Snooty, did you?”

Amethyst and Peridot hail from the same hometown down in the south and met through the same baseball league. The younger girl was in a different age bracket from her so they were never on the same team, but after a chance encounter while waiting between games at a tournament and finding out they both like the same things, the two became quick friends.

She never expected the girl to follow her all the way to South Spring, but even if Peridot is a constant reminder of the place she’d rather forget, Amethyst admits it’s nice to have another friendly face around.

Even if Peridot is one of the nosiest people she’s ever met.

Amethyst leans heavily into one leg, letting out an obnoxious groan that causes everyone to cringe. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“At least I own up to my snootiness.”

“Since when?”

Lapis snorts from the other side of the room.

“Well, anyway,” Peridot cuts in with a glare to her roommate before turning back to Amethyst. “I’m just glad it’s over. You were insufferable to be around.”

“Love ya, too, Peri.”

“What _did_ happen?” Bismuth speaks up near the water fountain. She rolls her neck, massaging at her shoulder. “Never seen y’all fight like that.”

“Nothin,’” grumbles Amethyst.

“Now, don’t be like that. It was obviously something.”

“Fine,” she relents, sighing into another stretch. “Something _did_ happen last week with Pearl, but I won’t go into it because it’s _super duper_ personal.”

Peridot scoffs. “Since when have you cared about something like that?”

 _She_ _’s got a point,_ Amethyst grudgingly considers. The catcher usually isn’t one to pass up an opportunity to feed the team rumor mill with juicy gossip. But this is different; it’s _Pearl_ they’re talking about. “Just now. So shut up.”

“Lame.”

Lapis, who’s usually a casual observer in team drama and takes pride in it, chooses this moment to speak up - much to Amethyst’s dismay. “Would it have anything to do with that girl in the restaurant?”

Amethyst sends her the most heated death glare she can manage, but Lapis just shrugs it off.

Peridot’s eyes go wide. _“Oh.”_

“Wait.” Amethyst swings her head back to Peridot. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Do you think -”

Lapis smirks. “Definitely.”

“And they were…?”

 _“Oh_ yeah.”

Peridot’s mouth gapes. “It all makes sense now.”

“What are you two nerds talking about?” Even after crashing at their place a few times, Amethyst still finds it eerie how they hone in on each other’s thought processes - and on occasion, share a single braincell. She supposes it makes sense after they’ve been so close for years, way before university, but by the conspiratorial looks they’re sharing, this train of thought can’t be going anywhere good.

Peridot shoots her a pitying look. “Oh, Amethyst…”

“Just like when Percy threw his lead in the three-legged races to prevent Becky from winning so that Pierre could get enough points for the end-of-camp contest,” says Lapis.

Peridot finishes the thought. “But then Pierre nominated Becky for the cup instead of Percy just because they went out two seasons ago.”

Lapis shakes her head. “Brutal.”

“Translation?”

Peridot reaches over to pat a comforting hand on Amethyst’s shoulder. “Don’t waste your energy on someone who’s head-over-heels for Becky.”

“Uh.” Amethyst brushes off the hand. “You lost me.”

Garnet, who’s been stretching her calves near Bismuth by the water fountains, cuts in. “It’s good advice. But I don’t think that applies here.”

Amethyst whirls around to her roommate. “Do _you_ know what they’re talking about?!”

“Yes,” she replies with an obnoxiously knowing smile.

Amethyst grumbles under her breath about useless, irritating teammates.

“Anyway,” says Bismuth, looking up from her quad stretch. “What’s this about a girl in a restaurant?”

“Ah, yes,” Peridot speaks before Amethyst can open her mouth. “Looks like our very own Pearl knows Rose Quartz, the catcher from Delmarva.”

“What, really?”

Amethyst tries to cut in. “Peridot -”

“They were arguing about something before Pearl ran off.” Peridot taps her chin. “Wonder what she was doing all the way out here, though. She’s strangely secretive about life before university in all her interviews, but from the way they knew each other, maybe she lived around here? It’s the only reason I can think of for traveling so far with games coming up.”

“Be _quiet!_ _”_ Amethyst hisses.

Large footfalls cause everyone to grow silent as Jasper stops behind Amethyst, her large shadow engulfing the catcher. “Hey, you,” Jasper snarls, low and threatening. “What’s this about Rose Quartz?”

It’s not the first time they’ve had confrontations before a big game, and it certainly won’t be the last. Amethyst knows in the back of her mind that escalating this won’t be doing her any favors, but she can’t stand the belittling look in Jasper’s eyes, the way she takes up space in a room like everyone else is beneath her, and that stupid little twitch in her eyebrow whenever she looks her way - like Amethyst is a mistake that needs to be erased.

Everything about the big lug just pisses her off.

Amethyst sneers up at her. “Why, she your ex or something?”

“Just tell me, damn it!” Jasper picks up Amethyst clean off the floor by the front of her shirt, unfazed by flailing kicks at her stomach and the swears spilling out of the catcher’s mouth. “Before I knock your teeth in.”

“I ain’t telling you shit!”

“That’s it.” Jasper rears back a fist.

Amethyst flinches back, preparing for contact.

“Hey!” Bismuth is at their side in a split second, grasping onto Jasper’s toned forearm with her own impressive grip. “Drop her. _Now!_ _”_

Jasper opens her mouth to retort, but one glare from Bismuth makes her think again. She scoffs, opening her fist, and Amethyst lands hard on the carpet with an _oof._

“Take a walk.”

“Whatever.”

As Jasper stomps out of the training room, Bismuth kneels next to Amethyst, straightening her jersey. “You okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Amethyst huffs, swatting away her hands. “Don’t know why you choose to live with that lunatic.”

Bismuth heaves a sigh. “Jasper is… complicated.”

“’Complicated’ my _ass._ One day, I’m gonna hit back,” argues Amethyst, “and then she’ll see.”

Peridot hovers nearby with Garnet, looking over Amethyst for any injuries, and sighing in relief when she finds none. She straightens before snapping, “See what? You getting knocked on your ass again?”

“I almost had her!”

“Don’t you see?” Peridot hisses down at her. “This is what happens when you constantly bait her like this!”

“So this is _my_ fault?!”

“No!” Peridot sucks in a breath, rubbing her brow in frustration. “Just learn how to pick your battles!”

Garnet steps in, pulling Amethyst to her feet. “Don’t worry,” she says calmly, as the catcher dusts herself off. “Jasper and I will be having words.”

Amethyst frowns. “I don’t need your protection, G.”

“Then think of it as a friendly discussion between teammates.” Garnet adjusts the glasses on her face. “On the future of this team.”

“C’mon guys,” Bismuth cuts in, glancing at the clock. “We’re late. Coach Yellow’s gonna start asking questions if we don’t get out there.”

It’s an hour before game time when they finish their cardio warm-ups on the field, so the rest of the team makes their way behind center field to the cages while Pearl and Amethyst head to the bullpen.

Pearl leans over the short fence while Amethyst gears up, staring out into the freshly cut grass beaded with morning dew. Despite everyone’s confidence, her performance this past week has her on edge. It’s just the start of preseason, and a win or loss won’t count toward their final record during the actual season, but their first game sets the pace for the rest of the year.

And the way things are going, this year’s looking pretty bleak.

“Hey, Pierogi.” Amethyst’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts. The catcher, fully geared in her chest and shin protectors, helmet hanging from her hand by the bars, nudges her with her shoulder. “You good?”

“Just nervous.” The confession leaves her lips before she can stop it.

Amethyst’s eyebrows shoot up. “You? Nervous? That’s a first.”

“It’s really not.”

“Well, don’t be.” The catcher leans back a little over the fence to catch her gaze. “You’ve gotten this far for a reason. Believe in that. It’s what I do, anyway.”

Pearl tilts her head, curious. “Don’t tell me _you_ get nervous.”

“Sure do!”

“But you always look so confident.”

“Must be the mask.” She lifts it up by the bars, waving it in front of her face, and laughs. “Guess it’s good for something besides hiding this ugly mug.”

The empty sound tugs at Pearl’s heart. She frowns. “You’re not ugly.”

“Just a joke, P.” She gives a half-smile before reaching over to playfully knock the bill of Pearl’s cap. The pitcher pouts, straightening it back. “But anyway, let’s get this going, huh?”

They start off with short throws to warm up their arms and gradually increase the distance between each one.

Amethyst snaps her glove around the ball before lobbing it back. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Tight.” She rolls her shoulders back, testing it out, and winds up for a throw. “Think I slept on it wrong.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Hope so.” Pearl snags the ball out of the air and turns it around in her glove, feeling around the seams with her fingers.

She has a system on the morning of game days: wake up at 6:45, measure out a cup of oatmeal on the stove right at 7, start getting dressed at 7:30, so she’ll be ready at exactly 8 to travel to the field. Except, she didn’t get up until 7 this morning, so her entire rhythm got thrown off when she was rushing to carpool with Amethyst and Garnet at 8:12.

Her morning thus far has been incredibly inconsistent, so everything just feels… wrong.

Ball hits leather as Amethyst catches. “Well,” she says, tossing it up and down in her throwing hand. “If it really bothers you, I give some pretty great massages.”

“Oh, really?” Pearl drawls.

 _“Really.”_ Amethyst smirks and wags her eyebrows. “Just ask Garnet.”

This makes Pearl’s jaw go slack. She raises her glove to receive the ball, glad to hide her face behind the leather. “I think I’ll take your word for it.”

“Don’t wanna find out firsthand?”

“I’ll think about it.” _Besides,_ thinks Pearl, tugging nervously at her cap. _It_ _’ll be one hell of a distraction._

Before long, the two of them are standing a full bullpen’s length apart, so they wrap up their warm up, take their positions, and start their routine.

“Fastball,” Pearl announces, and Amethyst nods behind the plate before creating a target on a right-hander’s inside pitch.

She forgoes pitching at full strength for now, focusing instead on placement and accuracy. Low and inside, high and inside, and then the other two outside corners - one right after the other and repeat. After a while, she mixes in some curves and sliders and then a few change-ups to keep Amethyst on her toes. A few bounce in the dirt, but the catcher pivots and slides over quickly enough to keep them from getting past.

More force enters her pitches, and Amethyst takes whatever she puts out without complaint.

Like clockwork, they work in tandem, anticipating each other’s movements and accommodating the other’s faults. It’s a fluid dance to music only the two of them can hear - and a relief after a week of stepping on each other’s toes.

They’ve found their rhythm again.

This is the way it’s supposed to be, Pearl thinks. No past or future to worry about. Just a ball, the dirt beneath her metal cleats, and a goal.

And a partner who understands it all and more.

By the time everyone else gets back to the dugout, they’ve worked up a light sweat. Amethyst jogs over with a grin. “Now, _that_ _’s_ what I’m talking about!” She claps her glove against Pearl’s. “Better save some for the game.”

They settle in their usual spot at the edge of the bench furthest from home plate. Some of their teammates swing a bat on the field to keep warm, while others chat near the water coolers by the entrance.

Amethyst’s smile is infectious, so Pearl follows suit, the corner of her lips curving up into a grin of her own. “Don’t need to worry about that,” says Pearl.

“Why’s that?”

“We’ve got this in the bag!” She chuckles. “‘Easy mode,’ as you’d say.”

“Hey.” Amethyst nudges her shoulder. “Now, there’s the Pearl I know and love.”

Pearl’s lips part in surprise.

Amethyst, as if just realizing what she said, glances away in a panic. “I just mean, all confident… and stuff.” She tugs her cap low over heated cheeks, shoving her hands in the pockets of her windbreaker.

“And… stuff?”

“You know.” Amethyst side-eyes her before inspecting the ground again. “You’ve been down on yourself lately. It’s… nice. To see you smiling.”

“Oh.”

It’s the kind of lighthearted banter they have during practices and games, but instead biting out a snide response this time, Pearl awkwardly coughs and rests her burning face on the cool brick edge of the dugout, hyper-aware of their proximity.

They sit side by side as always, distant from the rest of the team but comfortable in their little corner of solitude. They’re close - physically, it’s nothing new, but something _must_ have changed for Pearl to have this warm churning in her stomach and an urge to slide her hand just an inch over to rest upon the catcher’s one laying between them. Her heart is racing, and she thinks maybe it’s not from the warm up.

But she swallows and keeps her feelings in check, clenching twitching fingers around the fabric of her pants instead.

“Fifteen minutes,” Bismuth announces from the other side of the dugout.

Pearl spots through the outfield fence a bus rolling up alongside the main street. It’s no surprise their rivals show up so close to game time since their schools are only a thirty minute drive away, but Pearl will take any distraction she can get right now.

As they turn the corner and make their way to the visitor’s dugout, their shortstop and team captain leads the pack - a tall, slender girl with a number six plastered on the back of her jersey.

 _Outside change,_ Pearl notes to herself.

Coming in second is their center fielder, a shorter girl known for being speedy around the bases. Number eleven.

_Inside curve._

More players come into view.

_Easy right field fly with an outside pitch. Watch this one for the bunt. Can’t pull the inside pitch. Mix in some changes on that one; she swings early._

A handful of new players - freshmen and transfers, Pearl thinks - trickle in by themselves.

Just as the herd starts thinning out, their last player makes an appearance.

And Pearl forgets how to breathe.

Amethyst curses loud and vehemently to her right, but Pearl doesn’t admonish her because she’s frozen, too preoccupied with the sight of pink, flowing hair neatly pulled back into a braid, those probing, deep brown eyes she still sees in her dreams peaking from the shade of her visor, and a figure she knows all too well accentuated by the enemy’s uniform. A number twenty rests on the woman’s back like a statement Pearl’s read multiple times but one her teammates will end up learning by the end of today.

Most prominently is the name Quartz above the number.

A shocked “Holy _shit”_ from across the dugout.

And Pearl can’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, rose... 
> 
> also, garnet be like (ง'̀-'́)ง "don't touch my friends."


	6. First Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm a little rusty on baseball rules, so I kinda mixed softball rules in (which I'm also a little rusty on but not quite as much). 
> 
> Some basic terminology for this chapter:  
> Strike box/zone \- An imaginary box over the plate with a width ranging from the left side of the plate to the right and a height from the batter’s knees to their chest.  
> Bunt \- Lightly tapping the ball into play.  
> Fly ball \- A ball hit into the air. If it's caught before it touches the ground, the batter is out.  
> Ahead/behind in the count \- Whether the number of strikes & balls is in your favor (Ex. A count of three balls and no strikes = a batter is ahead in the count, while a pitcher is behind in the count).
> 
> Content warning: minor self harm, nothing graphic & anxiety

The stands are nearly filled to capacity as noon approaches, most of the crowd sporting South Spring colors in support of the home team. It’s looking to be a clear day for the first time in a while, so many are out in shirts and shorts, even with the chilly gusts of wind rolling through the evergreen trees surrounding the stadium.

Seeing as most of the team hails from the same state or the next state over, Pearl’s teammates are usually out by the front of the benches before the start of the game, waving to friends and family members, or on the field keeping warm by swinging a bat or stretching.

This time, however, they all have something else at the front of their minds.

“Is that Rose Quartz?!”

“What the hell is she doing here?”

Peridot flips through her printouts looking for an explanation she knows isn’t there. “This can’t be right. There wasn’t any news about any transfers, especially such high-profile ones like this. This makes no sense!”

Bismuth tries to calm her team. “C’mon guys, we just gotta play _our_ game! Don’t worry about anything else.”

“But Bismuth, we weren’t expecting to be playing _Delmarva_ today!”

“What do we do?!”

Lapis takes a sip from her water cup, rolling her eyes at everyone’s panic. “It’s just one person. No need to freak out.”

Peridot whirls around. “One person? Did you even see who she’s with?” She jabs a finger toward two players with widely contrasting height differences chatting in the other dugout. “Those are two of the best infielders in the country whose batting averages consistently place top ten every year: Aquamarine and Topaz. And that -” She points to a short, cheery-looking girl with curly pink hair done up in a bun. “That was their relief pitcher who constantly performed on par with their starting one. Looks like they all followed Rose out here.”

“So what? It’s still a team game, and the rest of them are trash.”

Garnet leans against the dugout fence. “Looks like they’re not the only ones who followed her.” She nods toward the dugout where the other team’s coach, a lanky woman with short, bright blue hair, scribbles on a whiteboard. “That’s Coach Blue, the assistant coach from Delmarva.”

Lapis clicks her tongue. “I stand by what I said. What can _one coach_ possibly do?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Pearl’s eyes follow as Rose gets settled in the back corner of the dugout; the same spot she and Pearl would always claim for themselves, where Pearl and Amethyst now sit on the opposite side of the field. She’s got new gear, Pearl notices, and it’s a much higher quality than the chest pad, shin guards, and helmet she used back in high school. With a chill, she realizes the pieces are dark red - Delmarva’s color - and it looks out of place on the North Spring team known for their blue and white color scheme.

Rose snaps on her last piece of gear and glances up, causing Pearl to freeze when their eyes meet.

A ghost of a smile plays on the catcher’s lips as she gives a small wave, and Pearl’s hand moves on its own to return it. Inwardly, her thoughts are a mess. She’s _angry_ Rose never told her but _happy_ they’re playing together again. She’s confused, nervous, downright _scared_ at pitching to the most terrifying batter this side of the country. She feels the pressure of having the knowledge to carry them to victory as well as the skills to back it up, but there’s a chance it might not be enough. They know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, but that was _years_ ago and what feels like a lifetime.

Rose will be a completely different player now, but Pearl has also changed. And today, they’ll find out which one of them has grown the most.

North Spring’s coach claps her hands to get the team’s attention, so Rose’s eyes harden, slipping her game face on and turning away. It’s something Pearl has always been jealous of - how during a game, Rose can block everything else out and only focus on the task at hand. It’s what allows her to clutch multiple game-winning hits without breaking a sweat, almost like nothing in this game is capable of fazing her.

Unlike Pearl. The pitcher has a nasty habit of carrying everything on the field with her - and this time, the baggage might be too heavy to handle.

She’s brought back to reality by Amethyst’s gentle hand on her shoulder. “You okay, P?”

A traitorous tear rolls down her cheek, but she angrily dashes it away with the cuff of her long-sleeve undershirt before anyone else sees. “Good. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not -”

“I’m _fine.”_

The arguments cease when a loud _bang_ catches everyone’s attention as Coach Yellow lays into a pole with an old bat. “Hey! Get ahold of yourselves!” The metal bat clatters across concrete, and Pearl feels Amethyst tense next to her. “Gossiping like children… What is this, high school? Time to grow up.”

Coach jabs a finger at the other players across the field, a few of which turn around to see what all the commotion is about. “Over there is just another team, another opponent, that you are going to beat into the ground until they shake in fear upon playing us again. I don’t care if the number one team in the country is across the field from us, you are not going to let _them_ intimidate _you._ Am I clear?”

Scattered mutters make their way around the dugout.

“I better hear a convincing ‘yes, Coach’ in the next five seconds, or you’re all doing laps in front of this whole goddamn stadium.”

_“Yes, Coach!”_

“Good.”

 _“’Blah, blah, run laps, blah,’”_ Amethyst mocks as Coach Yellow walks out, scrunching her nose and pursing her lips in a distinct impression of their coach. “Maybe I’ll take a lap just ‘cause I want to. And I’ll wear a tutu while doing it.”

Pearl chuckles weakly. “Bit cold for that, don’t you think?”

“And deprive everyone a shot of these legs? It’d be a travesty!”

Any other time, Pearl would humor the catcher and play along further, but her mind is occupied elsewhere - on a hint of pink, braided locks and a number twenty on the back of a jersey.

Home team takes the field first, so Pearl waits for her fielders to jog to their positions and start their warm-up grounders before she walks up to the mound. Amethyst takes her own spot behind the plate, shin guards clattering in her wake.

The ball feels heavier than usual in her grip, armed with the knowledge of who she’ll be facing - as well as the burning of a certain pair of eyes she knows is following her every move.

Amethyst must sense something is amiss because she pounds a fist into her glove to get her attention and expectantly sets a target.

_Just breathe._

The first few pitches are mechanically stiff and thrown at half power, but they hit their spots. However, that won’t _nearly_ be good enough against a hitter like Rose. She’s going to have to go all out if they want to stand a chance.

_My front foot was rotated too much on that last one. I’ll need to dig more weight into my heel to generate more power._

Pearl frantically twists the ball in her glove.

_Don’t look at the dugout. Just. Focus._

She steps too firmly on the next pitch, and it goes straight into the dirt, bouncing hard up into Amethyst’s chest protector but falls right into her glove.

 _It’s fine! It’s fine._ She digs into the dirt with her metal cleats in an attempt to smooth out the clumps where her foot landed, and the force of her kick causes the grains to scatter a trail out onto the grass. _Just need to make some adjustments. That’s all._

Amethyst reaches down behind the plate and flashes two numbers hidden between her knees - a quick one and then three.

Pearl nods. _High and outside fastball. Easy._

In an attempt to rectify her earlier mistake of pulling the trajectory into the ground, she lets the ball slip too early off her fingers, flying way above Amethyst’s reach where it crashes into the backstop fence and plops pathetically to the ground.

It elicits a few chuckles from the enemy team’s dugout, and her face burns in embarrassment.

 _Damn it._ Pearl pulls her cap lower over her eyes, snagging the returned ball in her glove with a frustrated snap.

They have every right to laugh, seeing as her performance is a joke. She was doing so well not even twenty minutes ago when it was just her and Amethyst. But now Rose comes waltzing in, and apparently all her training and hard work gets thrown out the door.

What would her father say, if he were to see her sorry state right now? Probably something like “get your shit together” that Pearl would use to channel her anger into getting through this wretched game.

What would _Rose_ say, if it were just the two of them?

Probably something so sentimental and corny that only _she_ would think of voicing in the middle of a tough game. She always knew the right thing to say to get Pearl back on track, could read her body language and knew when to pause the game by running the ball back to the mound in order to give Pearl that little extra time to get her head together.

Rose would wink in that awkwardly endearing way that would make Pearl want to laugh out loud if it weren’t for her father glaring daggers from behind the dugout fence. It would be just enough to quiet her racing thoughts and make everything right in the world again.

But today, everything is wrong - her jersey tugs too tight on her right shoulder whenever she winds up for a throw, there’s a glare from a car parked behind the backstop, the dirt is too gritty beneath her metal cleats and keeps clumping right by the pitching rubber, and for the love of all that is holy, can that baby in the stands stop screaming for _just two seconds_ -

She doesn’t even notice Amethyst is at her side until she speaks. “I can see your mind running a mile a minute from all the way over there.” The catcher busies herself with smoothing out the dirt on the mound. “At this rate, just tell Coach you wanna do that lap.”

Pearl scoffs. “Can you blame me?”

“’Course not. But it’s just a game, P. Have some fun with it!”

Her eye twitches. “F-Fun…?”

“Yeah, you know - smiling, laughing, ‘ha ha.’” Amethyst nudges her side. “You _can_ still do that, right?”

 _“Cute.”_ Pearl snags the ball out of her hand, while the catcher snickers. “I don’t know how you can be so glib at a time like this.”

“It’s just our first game, so don’t sweat it so much.”

“Despite your worryingly casual attitude toward something so important… I wish that were the only issue.” Against all her senses screaming at her not to, her eyes trail to the enemy team’s dugout to find Rose gazing back.

If only Rose hadn’t shown up, this game would’ve been easy. Pearl wouldn’t be over-analyzing her every move, and they’d all be done and home in time for dinner without all this extra pressure dragging down on her. They would’ve gotten a quick win, and everything wouldn’t feel so horribly _wrong._

“Hey.” Amethyst’s voice pulls her back to the present before her mind runs off on another tangent. “Forget about all that. Just you and me out here, okay? Don’t focus on anything else.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Oh, how she’d love to just pretend the team’s fate _doesn’t_ rely on her currently incapable hands, and how panic flashes through her mind at even the thought of Rose stepping up to the plate - not as a teammate for hitting practice, but as a threat to defeat - putting into question Pearl’s own abilities she’s tried so hard to cultivate these past few years and realizing all her efforts might not be enough.

“I know it’s anything _but_ easy,” says Amethyst. “But just focus on me and my glove like earlier. No coaches, no one in the stands, no past baggage. Just us.”

All the balls are called in from the field, indicating the impending start of the first inning. They’ve run out of time.

Pearl swallows hard, and this time her voice cracks. “I can’t.”

“You _can,”_ Amethyst insists, backpedaling to the plate. “You can do this, Pearl!”

 _I can do this. I can. I_ have _to. I…_

All of this wouldn’t be so hard if she were any other player, thinks Pearl, as the first batter steps up (number eleven, the center fielder), taking a few cheeky swings. She doesn’t want to deal with any of this, doesn’t want to face what she ended up running away from in the first place.

Why couldn’t anything be simple?

Amethyst pounds a fist into her glove before reaching down and signaling the pitch. _Inside curve, as expected._

Regardless of the new additions, they still know how to play against the original members. After two years of facing off against them and analyzing their game play, Amethyst and Pearl would naturally be on the same page.

Consistency. Routine.

_Just breathe._

Pearl winds up and takes her shot.

“Strike!”

“Nice! You got this!” Garnet calls from behind.

Pearl lets out a shuddering breath and sets up again, doing her best to ignore the screams of the crowd that do nothing for her pounding head. That last pitch was a close call - _way_ too close. She’s lucky the bat only managed to skim the very top.

Number eleven has a habit of watching the ball too long, always swinging too late, so inside pitches would naturally be Pearl’s go-to against this batter. At best, she’ll go out looking. At worst, she’ll put down a weak infield grounder that Pearl’s fielders should be able to take care of easily.

By all accounts, she shouldn’t have been able to pull a perfectly placed curve ball into the outfield gap, right over Garnet’s head.

The crowd roars as number eleven rounds first base, looking to take second. Upon seeing the ball still being retrieved by a frantic Peridot at the fence, she darts to the next bag, sliding in just under the tag.

“Safe!”

“’Atta way, good job!” Coach Blue calls from the third baseline, clapping her hands. “See what you can do when you read the ball quicker?”

The girl at second base just smirks and gives a thumbs up, while her teammates in the dugout cheer her on.

Pearl doesn’t look, but she knows Coach Yellow is glaring expectantly behind the fence.

“That’s alright! Shake it off, P!” Amethyst pounds a fist into her glove, crouching into position. “Let’s get the next one.”

Her last pitch was perfect, but she _has_ to be doing something wrong. There’s no way this is the same team they’ve stomped time and time again in the past, the same team who _barely_ shows up with the energy to play a full game, much less be excited about a single hit. There’s no way some coaching and player changes would transform them into a potential threat to South Spring’s standing.

But they _did_ manage to get someone on base. And in a scoring position, no less.

Pearl kicks some dirt off the rubber, wiping away a bead of sweat with her jersey sleeve.

This needs to end here.

Number four steps up to the plate, stony-faced and serious. She’s been the best bunter on the team the past few years, so it’s likely they’ll set up a bunt-and-run play to advance the runner on second.

Their best chance in this situation would be a change-up to allow the fielders time to react and make a play, hopefully having enough time to get the leading runner out at third when she makes a break for it.

The coach on the sidelines shows a few signs, clapping her hands when the batter nods and gets ready. “C’mon, lay it down.”

Number eleven takes her lead on second. Pearl winds up, and just as she raises her knee, the runner takes off to third.

The home team dugout calls out in alarm. “Going!”

The batter squares up for a bunt, and the fielders at first and third - Bismuth and Larimar, respectively - rush in to receive, while Garnet darts to third to cover the base. But as the ball reaches the midway point, the batter pulls back for a full swing, causing the fielders to halt in their tracks with wide-eyes.

Number four makes contact with a loud _pang_ and drives the ball right at Larimar’s head, who manages to deflect it before it can hit her, not quite able to get her glove around it. It goes flying to her left, but just as it’s about to touch the ground, Garnet dives to the side and snags it in her glove. She pushes off the dirt to watch the runner on second, who manages to dive back to the base in time as the crowd goes wild.

“Nice catch!” calls Bismuth over at first.

Garnet jogs the ball over to the pitcher’s mound, ready to toss the ball over to third if the runner tries anything.

“Good stop, Garnet,” Pearl sighs in relief, taking the time to adjust her cap. “And… sorry.”

“Thanks,” replies the shortstop, dusting off her jersey. “But don’t sweat it too much, Pearl. You know we’ve got your back.”

“I know.”

Coach Blue calls over to the crestfallen batter jogging back to the dugout. “Hey, nice try! Don’t worry about it!”

They’ve got one out with a runner still on second, Pearl assesses, taking her time resetting the dirt on the mound to calm her nerves. Each one of her pitches is being read like a book, almost as if the other team took the time to analyze her habits and faults beforehand. It’s something South Spring makes sure to do before every game, but before this year, North Spring never even bothered.

Not just that, their entire strategy has shifted, evolving from a low-ranking team sticking to the most basic plays to a veteran team with the intention to win and leave no survivors. And Pearl’s own team is _not_ prepared for the change.

Their strongest hitter (at least, until Rose) and team captain is up next - number six. In the past, they’ve only had to worry about _her_ coming up to the plate, since no one else proved to be a threat.

Time to see if she still can’t hit the outside change. Pearl makes a mental note not to be as predictable this time around.

The first two pitches go as planned, with Pearl mixing in some curves and sliders to test her out. Each time, the batter can’t seem to get full contact, weakly deflecting them outside the foul line.

Two strikes down, one to go.

Pearl takes a deep breath and prepares herself for the change-up.

“Strike three!”

“Yes!” Amethyst jumps up from behind the plate, tossing the ball back as number six sulks her way back to the dugout. _“That’s_ what I’m talking about!”

Pearl flushes at the praise, fidgeting with her cap.

Behind her, the fielders call “two outs!” to each other to make sure everyone’s on the same page. All they need now is a simple throw to first base or to catch a fly ball to end this half of the inning.

Defense is going well, all things considering. Even though the other team has been able to make contact with her pitches for the first time in all the years they’ve played each other, they still haven’t scored yet, and there’s two outs with only one to go.

The home team dugout cheers encouragements, banging on the fence and invigorating the crowd. But Pearl knows it’s much too early to celebrate with Rose walking up to the plate.

Of course she would be fourth in the lineup, thinks Pearl, swallowing the stone in her throat and smoothing out the clumps at her feet. It’s where one puts their strongest hitter in hopes of them driving the ball out of the park and bringing the previous runners on the bases home, even when there's likely to be two outs at that point of the game. The sheer strength and talent it takes to perform such a task with everything on the line is something Rose has never had a problem with.

And the carefree way she takes her practice swings exudes a level of smooth confidence unseen on any of the other batters before her, almost as if Rose can already predict the outcome of the game without fault - because _she’s_ the one who controls it.

Facing her again here and now for the first time in years causes Pearl’s breath to catch in her throat before she knows it. The ground feels like it’s shaking before she realizes she’s the one that’s trembling.

“Time out!” Amethyst calls.

 _“What?”_ Coach Yellow roars from the bench, likely furious that one of her players is taking up one of her limited time-outs for seemingly no reason.

But Amethyst just ignores her and makes her way to the pitcher’s mound.

“Ame…Amethyst…” Pearl struggles to get the word out. The world continues to spin around her, and she barely registers the familiar weight of the catcher’s hand on her arm. “I…” she chokes.

“Hey, it’s okay, P. It’s only me.”

“Can’t…”

“Deep breaths, remember? Follow me.” Amethyst slowly sucks in air through her nose. “In…”

Pearl does her best, chest shuddering in protest.

“Out.” Amethyst releases through her mouth in a slow, steady stream.

The pitcher does the same, forcing back tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. Shaking, she pulls the bill of her cap lower to hide her glistening eyes. She knows from experience that her infielders want to jog in as well to see what’s going on, but Amethyst shoos them away before they get close. Pearl can’t thank her enough for making sure that no one else on the team would be able to see her in this state.

Everyone’s laser focus is on the two at the pitcher’s mound, spectating with bated breath from the infield to the stands, but Pearl would rather die than shatter to pieces in front of any of them. So before she gives anything else away that could be seen as a sign of weakness, she digs her fingernails into her palm with all the strength she can muster and bites into her lip until she tastes iron.

The sharp pain blossoming in her mouth and hand cuts through her brain fog, until she finally processes the catcher’s worried visage in front of her.

Pearl sniffs, rapidly blinking away the tears.

“You okay?” asks Amethyst, so wonderfully caring but thankfully oblivious.

“Yeah,” coughs Pearl, shuffling her cleats in the dirt. “Just fine.”

“I can ask Coach to sub you out.”

 _“Don’t,”_ Pearl hisses. “Don’t you _dare.”_

“Okay!” Amethyst jumps back, hands raised in surrender. “Alright. Got it.”

“I can do this.” There’s no way she’s going to be beaten here and now - not by anyone, not even Rose. She wipes her trembling palm down the front of her dark pants, glad for once they didn’t have to wear the uniform with the white pants today or else the tiny specks of blood she knows are there would show.

She takes every single worry and fear, every uncontrollable emotion she can’t be bothered to deal with right now, and locks them behind a door in her mind where they won’t see the light of day for a long time.

The catcher pats her back that remains stiff as a board. “You got this.”

“Back when we played together,” Pearl continues evenly, “Rose had the hardest time hitting low pitches consistently. When she did manage to get a piece of them, a lot of them would either be outfield fly balls...”

“Huh, really.”

“…Or home runs.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s still our best shot.”

“I’ll follow your lead then.” Amethyst claps her on the shoulder. “You and me. Let’s do this.”

The corner of Pearl’s lips twitches up. “Same as always.”

Amethyst smiles back. “That’s the spirit.”

The game resumes with Pearl squaring up to face the plate where Amethyst’s glove is raised in preparation. Rose takes a few swings outside the batter’s box before taking her place.

Pearl has already run through the game plan in her head - start off with low and outside as a safe option, since Rose likes to wait for the high and inside unless she’s down in the count.

The pitcher takes a steadying breath before setting her feet.

_Here goes nothing._

She steps and releases. Rose watches it pass by through the strike box unfazed until it buries into Amethyst’s waiting glove.

“Strike!”

Rose takes a step back, nodding to herself, taking a few swings to keep loose.

Pearl twists the returned ball in her glove. Judging from her reaction, Rose planned on taking the first pitch before even stepping onto the field. To get a feel for the speed? To play mind games? Whatever the reason, a strike is a strike, and Pearl will take whatever she can get.

_Let’s try this again._

The pitcher opts for low and outside again, but this time, her fingers grip a little too hard, causing the ball to head straight into the dirt. Luckily - and Pearl thanks whatever baseball gods are out there watching - Amethyst manages to keep it in front of her, rearing back for a throw in case the runner at second tries to break for third.

But number eleven just walks back to the bag, cheering on her teammate at the plate.

Pearl swears under her breath. These kinds of little mistakes are unforgivable against a batter like Rose. Once a hint of weakness is shown, she’s the kind of player that goes straight for the throat without hesitation. Pearl’s seen it in action. She just never thought it would be used against _her._

_Well, if she’s waiting on an inside pitch, I’ll give her one._

Pearl’s proud of the placement on this next one; it goes exactly where it’s meant to. It’s a pitch she’s never been able to pull off in high school but has refined over the years in college - a cheeky slider that starts off heading toward the batter’s face but curves in and down at the last second, causing many a player to flinch and turn their back in preparation for a hit-by-pitch.

Even though the placement is perfect, and even with the perfect spin that allows it to curve right at the edge of the strike box, Rose’s hands are a blur over the plate as she makes full contact with the ball, pulling it over the outfield fence.

But not before it hooks just to the left of the foul pole in the distance and lands harmlessly into the grassy area behind the stands.

“Foul!”

 _Jesus, that was close._ Pearl bounces on her toes to shake off the nerves threatening to overtake her once more, tossing the returned ball into her glove with a snap.

Over by the plate, Rose is as calm as the eye of a storm. There’s a growing tension in the air now that the fielders have gotten a glimpse of a hidden power peeking out through the cracks of her facade. If they weren’t worrying about Rose before, they sure as hell are now.

Bismuth senses it, too. “C’mon, one more out! Look alive out there!”

Pearl’s ahead in the count, with one ball and two strikes to her name. She can afford to take a chance at a risky pitch in the hopes of Rose going out swinging, placing it just outside the strike zone where it’s tempting to swing at but impossible to hit hard.

She knows high pitches are extra juicy to Rose, so she goes for a curve on the high and outside corner. Except, it goes a little too high, and Amethyst has to shoot up onto her feet in order to catch it.

“Ball!”

Pearl goes for the same spot once again, and although it’s closer than the last, Rose watches it pass by.

“Ball!”

_She won’t take the bait. And I’ve only got one more try left._

A bead of cold sweat trails down the pitcher’s temple as she turns her back on the plate to center herself once more.

Her teammates cheer her on. “Let’s go, Pearl! You can do it!” calls Garnet from shortstop. Bismuth over at first base and even Peridot all the way from the outfield participate as well.

“Show this clod not to mess with us!”

 _Slow it down._ You _control the pace. Not her._

A fire blooms in her chest at the words - once tainted with her father’s low timbre but now echoes in her own voice, ringing true. After everything she’s been through, after everything she’s worked toward in her life, she’s not about to roll over for _anyone._

Not her father, not this team who thinks they can waltz onto her field and expect to turn a win in their favor. Not even Rose.

Sucking in an angry breath through her teeth, she sets her feet and pours all her strength into this next pitch, winding up extra far with more flexibility and power than she thought possible. She steps, pivoting on her heel to whip her throwing arm forward to release a curve into the lower outside corner of the strike box.

At least, that was the intention. Instead, to her horror, it blunders straight down the middle - which Rose takes advantage of to smash a perfect hit over the center field fence.

The crowd erupts along with the visitor team dugout, stomping their feet and pounding on the fences. Rose takes her time jogging around the bases, a self-satisfied smile gracing her face. Her team rushes out onto the field to crowd her with cheers and congratulatory slaps to her helmet for scoring them two runs.

The home team dugout along with all their fans remain hushed and lifeless in their disappointment.

Bismuth clears her throat over at first base in an attempt to break the tension. “Don’t worry, just shake it off, Pearl. One more out!”

But the pitcher barely hears her. In fact, she barely registers Amethyst’s own consoling words and the weight of a baseball in her glove thrown by the catcher - or even the angry yells of her coach promising a lengthy and detailed punishment should she fail to step up her game.

Admittedly, the rest of the day goes by in a haze, with Pearl’s performance deteriorating with each passing inning. No matter how hard she tries to get her head back into the game, she can’t seem to shake the harsh thoughts in her head promising she’ll never amount to anything, that her father was right all along.

That Rose is so much better off without someone like Pearl weighing her down. And she is, if her stellar performance and the support of her team are any indication.

Her hands are numb in her glove and around the ball, cold and unfeeling like a distant dream. All she can do is go through the motions, not even reacting when the batting team scores run after run.

It gets to the point where Coach Yellow takes Pearl out of the game altogether and forces Holly, their first-year relief pitcher, to take her place.

Defensively, they manage to hold their ground fairly well - that is, until Rose gets up to the plate again to drive in more runs, followed by the other hitters from Delmarva consistently getting on base when it’s their turn to bat. Offensively, North Spring’s pink-haired pitcher gives them a run for their money with her expert control over each pitch, hitting her corners with deadly precision.

In the end, their combined efforts aren’t enough to close the gap when the game ends with an 8-4 score. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” announces Coach Yellow over the bowed heads of her humiliated team, as the visitors celebrate in their dugout for their first win over their rivals in decades. “You’re _all_ doing sprints before weights. For an entire month.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this entire chapter felt like writing an over-dramatic sports anime, and i loved it.
> 
> side note: probably won't be sticking to the weekly updates on sundays, just because i don't want to feel like i have to get content out at the expense of quality. personally, i feel the quality dropped a bit in this chapter, so im hoping with more time, i'm able to plan/edit a bit more for future chapters.
> 
> also thinking about raising the rating to M just because the mental illness aspects will get more graphic as time goes on.
> 
> please let me know what you thought in the comments! i love to hear what people liked/didn't like & what they want to see more of.
> 
> more characters:  
> coach blue - blue diamond  
> holly - holly blue agate  
> opposing pitcher - pink pearl


End file.
